


Love is A Dangerous Thing

by wayward_sherlock



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Cuddling, Domestic Fluff, Everyone Ships Castiel/Dean Winchester, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Hints will be dropped like they are hot, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I probably butchered the lore, Idiots in Love, Infidelity, It's For a Case, I’m doing more research for this fic than I did in the entire first semester, Light angst oops, Lots of Cuddling, M/M, Mutual Pining, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Sam Winchester Ships Castiel/Dean Winchester, Sam is your basic younger sibling, THERE’S ONLY ONE BED, aka he’s a little shit, because younger siblings are also awesome, but I say it with love, but not really, but that’s ok, fluff in general, is it platonic cuddling? Stay tuned, it’s a big misunderstanding guys I promise, okay um maybe more angst than was originally planned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-29
Updated: 2021-02-07
Packaged: 2021-03-10 16:47:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 21,344
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28410393
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wayward_sherlock/pseuds/wayward_sherlock
Summary: In which Dean and Cas have to be super cliche to catch the bad guy
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 198
Kudos: 175





	1. The One Where Dean is Exposed and Sam Laughs Maniacally In The Background

**Author's Note:**

> Hey y’all please enjoy this. I’ve been wanting to write a fake dating fic for a while and just finally got around to it :)

“No, Sam.”  
  


“C’mon, Dean, just until we can gank this guy.”

Dean scoffed. “Dude, have you watched _any_ Hallmark movies? Like at all? Because we all know how the fake dating story ends!”

Sam squinted at Dean. “Since when do you watch Hallmark movies?”

Dean shut his laptop and stood up, hoping to defend his dignity. “I don’t watch Hallmark movies! It’s just...a-a guilty pleasure?” Dean winced. That’s not how he had meant it to come out.

Sam laughed. He had the nerve to _laugh_ in the face of Dean having a manhood meltdown. “Like Doctor Sexy?”

Dean flushed. “That is not the _point!_ A, Cas is not gonna wanna fake date me. Two, the...whatever it is would know if we were fake dating, right? So why should we be the bait? And D, Doctor Sexy’s cowboys boots are the only reason I watch Doctor Sexy!” Dean was yelling now, but he didn’t care.

Sam put his hands up in surrender. “A, I’m sure Cas would absolutely love fake dating you. Two, whatever it is probably won’t know that you guys are fake dating if you _sell_ _it_ ,” Sam threw a pointed look at Dean before continuing. “And D, you have a cowboy fetish!”

“I do not!” Dean huffed, dropping into his chair and crossing his arms. Sam’s other two points were convincing enough and he hated it when Sam was right.

Dean’s mind backtracked and he replayed what his brother said. “What do you mean Cas would absolutely love fake dating me?”

~~~

“This is a terrible idea,” Dean grumbled, closing the trunk to Baby with what bordered on aggression.

“As long as we catch the bad guy, right?” Cas offered, and Dean looked over the top of the car to see Cas drawing a pattern in the dust on Baby’s roof. 

Dean sighed. “Yeah, yeah. But why do we have to be the ones to be the bait? Why can’t it be Sam and Eileen?” 

Sam came into the garage with a bag of snacks for Dean and Cas’ drive. “Because Eileen and I would never cheat, _Dean.”_

Dean had an internal struggle that had him looking constipated for a moment before he flipped Sam the bird. _What makes you think that Cas and I would cheat, huh, Sasquatch?_

“Just for the record, everybody, I said this was a terrible idea,” Dean announced, before opening the door to Baby and getting into the driver’s seat. “A fucking awful idea, really.”

~~~

Sam had picked the room for them. He had reserved it ahead of time since it was a fancy hotel and all. 

Dean pulled up to the building, turned Baby’s engine off, and gawked. He’d been staying in motels most of his life, after all.

“Let’s go check in, Dean,” Cas said, breaking Dean out of his trance. Dean shook his head once to clear his mind and wiped some drool off the side of his mouth.

Eew, drool? Since when did Dean _drool?_ Especially over a building?

Dean walked up behind Cas and looked around at the hotel entrance. It was quite nice, a bunch of different shades of tan and blue, with some splashes of green here and there. It was a walking distance away from the beach, and Dean could already smell the salt.

Heh, they’d have no problem keeping demons away, would they? And it’d sure be a struggle to be a ghost in this climate-

“Dean? Are you alright?” Cas asked, waving a hand in front of Dean’s face.

Dean blinked. “Huh?” Cas looked at him and Dean realized he was standing in the middle of the automatic doors. The automatic doors that were _closing_.

“Shit!” Dean cried, and he jumped forward, nearly propelling Cas into the other set of still-closed automatic doors. “Who the hell needs two sets of lazy-people doors?” 

Cas tilted his head. “It is a nice hotel, Dean, and Miami is a city where older people go to live out retirement.” Cas looked like he was about to drop some major angel knowledge (which, why would he need to even know about where retirees tended to flock? He was an angel of the Lord, for Pete’s sake) so Dean held up a disappointed hand to stop him.

Cas rolled his eyes and grabbed Dean’s hand, causing Dean to spazz out for a minute.

“Dude, what the hell?” Dean asked when his brain quit short circuiting and he managed to realize that Cas was tugging him forward. 

“We’re supposed to be a couple, remember?” Cas said, and Dean raised an eyebrow. 

Well, fine then. If they were supposed to be a couple, Dean would do his damndest to be the most couple-y he could. _Especially_ if he could manage to make Cas uncomfortable.

With a new found purpose, Dean gripped Cas’ hand as he approached the check-in desk. 

The man behind the desk raised his head. “Hello, sirs, how can I help you?” 

Dean pasted on his patented Winchester smile. “My-“ he glanced at Cas. Boyfriend? Husband? Fiancé? What was Cas supposed to be?

Damn. He was already bad at this couple-y shit.

Cas seemed to notice Dean’s increasingly crumbling façade and smiled sweetly at the man. “We’d like to check into our room, please.” 

The man nodded. “What’s the name?”

Cas gave Dean a wary glance before saying, “Winchester.”

Dean just about died.

“Ah yes, here it is! Room four-oh-seven,” the concierge announced after a few moments of frantic keyboard clacking and internal crises. “Please enjoy your stay, gentlemen.”

Cas thanked the man and grabbed the room key, gently steering Dean to the elevator with a hand under his elbow.

“Smooth, Cas,” Dean said when the doors closed, and he yanked his arm away. 

Cas’ face remained neutral, but his eyes flashed with something Dean couldn’t quite place. 

“We never know when someone could be watching, Dean,” Cas whispered, and he glanced up to the camera on the ceiling of the elevator. 

Dean scoffed. “Like some dumbass monster is gonna be watching the security feed.”

Wait. _Would_ some dumbass monster be watching the security feed?

Dean was suddenly feeling very exposed as he squinted at the camera, as if he stared hard enough he could see who was watching on the other side.

“We’ll go check out our room and then we can get dinner and lay some ground rules, ‘cause Baby is probably safe, and we need to know how to act like a couple,” Dean whispered as the elevator doors opened. 

Cas nodded and led the way to their room. He slid the keycard into the slot, and as the light lit up green to indicate that the door was unlocked, he pushed open the door.

The first thing Dean noticed was how large the room was. It was at least twice the size of any motel room he had ever stayed at, and he marveled at it before he noticed something else.

“There’s only one bed?!” 


	2. The One Where Dean And Cas Lay Some Ground Rules Featuring More Maniacal Laughter From Sam.

“I hate you.”

Sam sighed over the phone, rubbing a hand over his face. “Dean, I can’t even take you seriously when I can only see the top quarter of your face. You’re like an old man fumbling with technology and honestly, it’s disappointing.”

Dean squinted at his phone and realized that yeah, Sam could only see his eyebrows over the video call screen. He pulled the phone away until he could see his entire face and half of Cas’, who elbowed Dean in the side and nearly knocked his head to get in the full frame.

“Dean is quite upset that you booked us the honeymoon suite, Sam,” Cas said, and Dean handed Cas the phone so he could properly drive Baby out of the hotel parking lot.

“ _Quite upset_ , qui- Cas, I’m furious! Sammy, c’mon man, I’m your brother!” Dean exclaimed and he fought the urge to run a red light purely out of rebellion against his goody-two shoes little brother. “I mean, seriously? It only has _one bed!_ And-and there were rose petals and candles and chocolates everywhere!”

Sam pointed the phone towards the bunker ceiling and Dean heard some badly-stifled laughter from the other end. “Damn it, Sammy, this isn’t funny!”

“Y-yeah it is, Dean! Cas doesn’t even sleep! Why would the bed be an issue?” Sam said, finally pointing the camera back at his face, which was red from laughing so hard and he wiped a tear from his cheek. 

“I do not sleep, Dean, Sam is right,” Cas said, and Dean shot him a look. “And the view from our balcony is gorgeous-“

Dean looked at Cas in surprise. “Since when does an angel stop and smell the roses?”

Cas flushed. “Well, I-“

“So get this,” Sam interrupted, his face lit up an odd color from his laptop. Cas pressed his lips into a thin line and glanced at Dean. Dean barely refrained from patting his hand. “Most of the vics over there were men in their late thirties, and they were last seen leaving a bar with different people. People that were not their partner.”

Dean bobbed his head from side to side in contemplation as Baby’s steering wheel slid under his fingers like a snake. “So, what, we’re thinking it’s...something at this bar? A hooker, maybe?”

Cas pointed towards a diner on the side of the road and Dean pulled into a parking spot. He turned Baby’s engine off and bounced back against the seat, running a hand through his hair. 

“Yeah, probably. Except all the men were found dead on their hotel room beds, doors and windows locked, with myrtle in their mouths and rose petals all around them. So it’s definitely our type of thing,” Sam said, and Dean heard some shuffling from the other side of the phone. 

“Perhaps a romantic ghost?” Cas theorized, and Dean rolled his eyes. 

_Romance_. Blech. Dean was definitely not a romantic person.

Well, except for…

Nope. Dean would not allow himself to be a freaking _romantic_.

“Maybe. I’ll let you guys know if I find anything out, ‘kay? Stay away from that bar for now, and make sure to use a condom if you put that king size bed to use!” Sam said, and his bitchface was wavering as he tried not to laugh.

Dean was about to say something along the lines of “yeah, yeah, adios,” but then his brain registered what Sam had meant.

“Oh, fuck you, Sam,” Dean sighed, and Sam hung up their call with a cackle that rivaled one of Charlie’s.

“Ignore him, Cas, let’s get some grub,” Dean said, opening the driver’s side door.

Cas followed suit, and soon the two were seated on opposite sides of a booth in the small, oceanside diner. 

“What can I get you boys to drink today?” A young waitress walked up, pen poised over her notepad to take their order.

“I don’t suppose you guys have anything strong?” Dean asked, hoping against hope. The waitress looked at him weird, a mix between _huh?_ and _dude, this is a diner._ Dean sighed. “I’ll have a coke.”

Cas hummed in agreement. “I’ll have what he’s having.” 

The waitress smiled at them both before hurrying off for their drinks. 

Dean looked out the window at the rapidly setting sun, and suddenly got very antsy. He looked over at Cas, and was surprised to see the angel looking at him, his hands fiddling idly with a sugar packet. 

Cas blushed when Dean caught him staring, and looked away. 

Dean isn’t sure why, but he looked away too, bringing his gaze down to his thumbs that were twiddling restlessly on the table.

“Here are those cokes, gentleman. Are y’all ready to order?” The waitress appeared out of nowhere, and Cas and Dean both jumped.

“I’ll have a bacon burger combo, and he’ll have the same,” Dean said, handing over the menu that had gone unnoticed on the table.

The waitress sighed dreamily but rushed off before she could explain herself.

Dean went back to twiddling his thumbs. Cas went back to playing with his sugar packet (it was an all-natural sugar packet, with a green label to ensure it.)

“So…” Dean said, kicking his feet a little like a kid on a chair that was too big for him. “We should probably lay some ground rules for our, uh-r-relationship?”

Oh God, this was gonna suck, wasn’t it?

Cas nodded, and he politely placed his sugar packet to the side (he had discovered while fumbling with the packet that sugar was a replacement for honey, and couldn’t stand to think of the betrayal to his bee friends). “I think that could help us with this case, yes.”

Dean shook his head at Cas’ sophisticated way of speaking. “Yeah, well, the first rule should be-“

“Here are those burgers for y’all!” The waitress said, sliding two plates off her tray and onto the table. She placed her tray underneath her arm and smiled sweetly at the two of them. “Y’know, I always find it adorable when couples order the same thing. You two enjoy, and let me know if you need anything!” She beamed at them for a minute longer before walking off, her blonde curls bouncing slightly.

“It seems as though we don’t even have to try to appear as a couple,” Cas observed, and Dean snorted.

“No shit, Sherlock.” Dean took a big bite of his bacon burger (his brain tried to say that ten times fast and failed miserably) and groaned softly, his eyelids fluttering closed.

Cas looked at Dean dubiously, a small smile struggling to surface on his lips. “Fuck off, Watson.”

Dean choked on his burger, and made a strangled wheeze that kinda sounded like a dying animal before he fell into a coughing fit.

“Did you-did you just _cuss?”_ Dean asked, dumbfounded and still recovering from his not-so-near-death experience (eating could be very dangerous). “And how did you know who Watson is?”

Cas smirked, and took a bite of a fry. “I have my ways.”

Dean’s jaw dropped at how perfect Cas looked sitting across from him in a diner, chewing on a fry and smirking at Dean in a way that made Dean think of the prelude to some very interesting activities taking place in a bedroom.

Dean shifted uncomfortably and cleared his throat. “Well, as I was saying, the first rule should be to only act the way we need to where we need to.”

Cas looked at Dean like he was speaking Japanese. Dean sighed and took another bite of his burger. “I mean, we act like a couple only in places we need to.”

“Ah,” Cas said, and his face fell a little bit as he took another, more depressed, bite of fry (he wasn’t sure what comfort eating even was until that moment).

Dean squinted at Cas and attempted to take a drink of his coke. He cursed when the straw wound its way around his lips and when he finally caught it and took a sip, he looked up to see Cas watching his every move and licking his own lips.

Well then. It’s not like Dean needed to breathe, anyways.

Dean coughed a little (again) before making a weird gesture with his hand. “What do you think rule number two should be?”

Cas looked up, contemplating. “Maybe it should be that there are no restrictions for showing affection when we are being watched.”

Dean squinted at Cas again. “Why would we need that as a rule?”

Cas shrugged, folding the corner of his napkin towards the middle. “Just to be more convincing.”

“Ooookay, well, rule three is that we don’t get carried away with the _relationship_ part of this _fake relationship.”_ And damn, Dean really was just setting out to make Cas look miserable, wasn’t he? “I-I mean, once it’s over, it’ll be over. The case, I mean. Once the case is over, the relationship will be over.”

Dean stopped himself from babbling further by shoving a fry into his mouth. It was one of those good fries, fluffy on the inside, just a tiny bit crunchy on the outside, salty enough to ward off a demon, and fresh out of the oven. Dean smiled a little bit before he realized Cas was still looking like Dean had kicked his angel puppy. 

“What, Cas?”

Cas started, looking up at Dean with wide eyes before focusing on something just over Dean’s shoulder. “Nothing, I was just thinking about the next rule.”

_Yeah, it didn’t look like it._ “And?”

Cas straightened his tie, only managing to make it more crooked. “I’ll do my best to act human,” he said quietly.

Dean snorted around a bite of burger. “Yeah, right.” Dean looked up at Cas. “Oh shit, you’re serious,” Cas nodded slowly. Dean cleared his throat and set down his burger (things were really getting serious). “Um, okay, what do you mean?”

Cas shifted. “ _I_ _mean_ , I can attempt to lower my ability to control this vessel so more basic human needs can take over.”

Dean blinked at Cas once. Twice. Thrice. “You can do that?” Cas nodded. “What would these...basic human needs consist of, exactly?”

Cas looked down at his plate. “I would need to sleep a couple of hours, eat, socialize and, um- feel the need for sexual release.”

If Dean had taken a sip of coke in that moment, he would’ve spit it out all over Cas.

“Don’t say it like that, you make it sound weird.” Dean said, his voice unnaturally high.

“It _is_ weird, Dean, you wouldn’t know because you’ve never had to live without it before, and then come back and try to deal with it!” Cas hissed, and Dean reflexively put his hands up in surrender. 

“Di-did you already turn off your angel-ness?”

Cas sighed and looked longingly out the window like an overdramatic main character in a bad romance movie. “Unfortunately.”

Dean threw his arms up in exasperation. “So I don’t even get to eat your burger?”

Cas shook his head and bit into his bacon burger and made a little noise that had Dean regretting even _thinking_ about wanting to deprive Cas of his newly minted basic human needs. “Jimmy enjoyed burgers, Dean.”

“Yeah, well, I enjoy burgers too, Cas,” Dean grumbled, but he happily spent the rest of dinner attempting to catch fries in his mouth whenever the angel tossed them at him.

~~~

“Yes, Cas, brushing your teeth is something that you have to do before bed. If we’re going to be sleeping together, then you have to do it.” Dean paused, halfway through untying his shoe. “I-I mean, if we’re going to be sleeping in the same bed. ‘Cause we wouldn’t be _sleeping together_ sleeping together. Obviously.”

Dean just really didn’t know when to shut up, did he?

Dean heard the water turn off and quickly finished untying his shoe. He stood up in his socked feet and turned towards the bathroom, right as Cas walked out.

“Which side of the bed do you want, Dean?” Cas asked innocently, as if that was something that best bros ask each other all the time and not something one would ask their true love.

Not that Dean would know. He’s just seen a lot of movies.

“This is your first time sleeping, you choose,” Dean said, brushing Cas’ shoulder as he walked into the bathroom.

When he was done, he walked back out into the main part of the room. Cas had turned off the overhead light, so the only light was coming from the lamps on the nightstands.

Cas was sitting against the head of the bed, eyes closed, with a determined expression on his face. He had a cute little wrinkle in between his eyebrows, and-

  
Nope, Dean wasn’t gonna go there. He sighed.

“Cas, you might wanna try lying down.”

If Cas was surprised to hear Dean’s voice, he didn’t show it. He just cracked one azure eye open at Dean. “I may be in need of your assistance to fall asleep.”

Dean smiled a little bit as he got under the covers and laid on his side, facing Cas. “Just kinda...lay like this, I guess. I’ll turn my light off, you turn yours off, so it’ll be dark, and then you close your eyes and just kinda let your mind go.” Dean sat up and reached over to turn his lamp off, and suddenly the room was plunged into darkness, the only light coming from the moon through their thin curtains.

Dean laid back down, facing Cas, and pulled the blankets up to his chin. He closed his eyes.

“Goodnight, Dean,” Cas said, and Dean opened one eye. Cas was facing him, his face so close to Dean’s that Dean could feel his breath. Cas was watching him, blue eyes sparkling like a lake in the moonlight. His expression was soft, and his lips were pulled up in a small, content smile.

Dean tried not to think about the traitorous part of his brain that wanted to fall asleep like this for the rest of his life.

“Goodnight, Cas,” Dean whispered, and even though every instinct was telling him to _turn away_ , he stayed looking at Cas until the angel’s eyes closed and his breathing evened out. He looked so peaceful in sleep, so beautiful.

Dean cursed himself for thinking that about his best friend and turned over onto his stomach, his head facing away from Cas and all his perfection. He closed his eyes and let the tentacles of sleep wind their way into his consciousness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year everybody!! :))


	3. The One With Lots Of Questions and Not A Lot Of Answers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> no seagulls were harmed in the making of this chapter

Dean woke up to the sound of a seagull cawing right outside their window like the goddamn Purge was starting or something. 

Dean was an angry sleeper in general, but waking up to a wailing bird did nothing to help matters. He was about to get up and shoot at the seagull with his pistol, like that one pigeon that had pooped on Baby, when suddenly he remembered where he was and who he was with.

He blinked open his eyes, the sunshine creeping through the sheer curtains (tonight he was gonna have to remember to close the blackout ones). Dean snuggled down into the weight that was strewn across his middle with a soft smile on his face.

Wait.

Dean looked down.

Yep, that was definitely Cas, thrown across his midsection like a rag doll, his head resting on Dean’s chest. The angel’s eyes were wide open, and they were watching the wall across the room. He had a small smile on his face, and Dean felt reluctant to ruin his peace.

Cas must’ve noticed that Dean’s breathing changed, because he looked up at Dean with _...something_ in his eyes that Dean would rather not think about.

“Uh, Cas?”

Cas flushed. “It appears that another basic need is human proximity. I-I woke up like this. I apologize,” he said, but he didn’t make any moves to get off of Dean.

Dean couldn’t lie, he didn’t mind having the angel this close to him. It was comforting actually, the weight of another person reminding him that this was real, this wasn’t some weird fucking dream cast on him by a djinn or witch or something of the sort. But Cas’ leg was dangerously close to an unusually bad case of morning wood, and he couldn’t be giving the angel the wrong idea.

Cas tilted his head, and his hair, which was even more messed up than usual (bed head on an angel is a force to be reckoned with), flopped to the side. Dean chuckled and mindlessly ran his fingers through it. 

Cas practically _purred_. Dean paused when he realized what he was doing, but then Cas nudged his hand with his head and Dean continued. 

“Why didn’t you wake me up, Cas? We gotta get going on this case,” Dean whispered, because suddenly, the moment seemed too fragile to be talking at a regular volume.

Cas’ eyelids fluttered closed in response to Dean weaving his fingers through a particularly sensitive patch of hair and he murmured “You look lovely when you sleep. So at ease.”

And nope, that didn’t help Dean’s morning wood _at all_. He cleared his throat and after an awkward moment of staring at the angel and willing him to stop looking (and being) so damn wonderful, Dean untangled himself from Cas and excused himself to the bathroom.

When he emerged (he totally didn’t spend an extra couple minutes in the shower for, ahem, _reasons),_ Cas was still laying in bed, looking at the ceiling.

He looked up when Dean approached, and when Dean sat down on the corner of the bed, Cas sat up until all that was covering his more human parts were the white sheets and his underwear.

Dean huffed and looked away. “So, uh, research today? Maybe we go to this bar and ask some questions as feds or something?” 

Cas looked thoughtfully out the window, the sun shimmering down onto his black hair and his tanned skin, and damn, if Dean wasn’t such a crap artist, he would’ve drawn Cas like one of his French girls.

“Should we call Sam? See what he’s dug up?” Cas questioned, before studying Dean and adding “If we went to the bar without knowing what we’re up against, you could be in danger.”

Dean tried to ignore the fact that Cas had no regard for his own safety. “True that, true that. So what, we call Sam and see what he’s found, then mosey on down to the bar and check it out?” 

Cas nodded, then smiled. “After breakfast, of course.”

“You know me so well,” Dean said, hopping up and beaming at Cas.

If it got him this, Dean wouldn’t mind waking up to screaming seagulls for the rest of his life. 

~~~

After a delicious breakfast complimentary of the hotel, Dean dialed Sam’s number. Sam picked up on the second to last ring and looked like he had just woken up.

“Up and at ‘em, Sammy.”

Sam grumbled something and shifted into a sitting position.

“We were wondering what you managed to find on the bar? Or just on the case in general?” Cas asked, leaning over towards Dean’s side of Baby. He was practically resting his head on Dean’s shoulder, and for some reason the thought sent shivers down Dean’s spine. 

“Excuse me, but some of us need actual sleep,” Sam said, yawning. 

Dean saw right through his bullshit (since when did Sam actually _want to_ sleep?). “Eileen is there with you, isn’t she?”

Sam stopped mid-stretch like a sasquatch caught in headlights. “Uh...no?” 

His voice squeaked just enough to tell Dean that yes, Eileen was most definitely at the bunker and yes, Sam had been doing some _personal research_ last night instead of something to help the case. 

“Well played, little brother, and usually I would be proud, but we need some info. Pronto.” Dean said, tapping his thumbs on the steering wheel as he looked out the windshield.

“Listen, sorry guys, but if I’m the only one with an actual life, who am I to deny living it?” Sam asked, and Dean tried to ignore how true (and depressing) that statement was. “I’ll call you guys if I find anything, and I’ll actually do research this time, I promise.”

“Get Eileen to help you,” Dean grumbled.

Cas glanced at him before asking Sam “What do you suggest we do until then?”

San shrugged, yawning again. “I guess you guys can go to the bar, just try to go right when it opens so you don’t have to deal with too much of a crowd. Be careful, though.”

“We always are, Sammy. Always are.” Dean said, and Sam hung up. Dean sighed.

“I can turn my grace back up to full power, if you’d like. So you can be protected from anything we may run into.” Cas offered.

Dean shook his head and turned Baby’s engine on. “Naw, I’m sure it’ll be some stupid old bar. We’ll be fine.”

_Famous last words._

~~~

The bar was called _The Sea Foam,_ which Dean thought was a little weird, but whatever. The outside of the bar was a minty green with what used to be white shutters and a white door (now the paint was peeling, revealing a dark blue). The neon lights were starting to blink on, signalling that the bar was just opening. 

“Shall we?” Dean asked, already throwing open the door to Baby.

Cas grabbed his arm. “Are we being officers of the law or a couple?” 

Dean stopped. He hadn’t even thought about that. “What do you think? I would say feds so they feel compelled to answer questions but we don’t want to come back as a couple later if we’re not one now.” Dean sat back down with a huff. 

“Maybe we can do both?” Cas suggested. “We can be federal agents now but say that we have a personal relationship.” 

Dean mulled this over. “Yeah, that could work.” He looked at Cas skeptically. “So not only do we have to act like federal dicks, but we gotta act like a couple at the same time?”

Dean was not ready for this. Not at _all._

Cas nodded. “Just enough so they get the idea that we’re together.”

Dean sighed and motioned for Cas to get out of Baby. He opened the door for the angel and then followed him inside. 

A melody played out when the door closed behind them. It sounded like a couple of tinkling bells, and it floated on the air for a moment before a woman’s head popped out from a door in the back.

“Hey there!” The woman called. “Just a moment, please,” her head disappeared behind the door again. 

Dean glanced at Cas and walked up to the bar. He took a seat and looked around the interior of the building. 

It was obviously a tropical bar, with fishing nets and bobbers hanging from the ceiling. There were randomly shaped string lights, some were flip flops, some were fish, and some were… bikini tops? 

Maybe Dean would like this bar, after all. 

He was just beginning to study the cool table top of the bar, which was glass but had water underneath that was reaching towards him and then retracting like waves on the shore when the woman suddenly appeared behind the bar, scrubbing it with a towel. 

“How can I help you two fine gentlemen?” She asked, throwing the towel over her right shoulder. The woman had brown balayage hair, her loose curls reaching just past her elbows. Her eyes were a light sapphire that almost bordered on unnaturally teal. 

Dean _may_ have accidentally broken cover to check her out. She was breathtakingly beautiful, her slight build covered in freckles from living in the sunshine state. She was wearing short cut-off jean shorts and a turquoise bikini top that complimented her tan skin wonderfully. 

It took Dean a minute to realize that this _goddess_ was talking to him, but by that point, Cas had pulled out his (faux) badge and said “We would like to ask you a few questions, ma’am. Are you the owner of this establishment?” 

No wonder Cas had only gotten laid once. If that was his best line, Dean wondered how he even managed to function. 

“I am. May I ask your names-” she squinted at Cas’ badge and Dean’s badge, which he had just managed to gather the wherewithal to get out. “-agents?” 

Cas looked to Dean for help. “I’m Agent Trevor, this is my partner Agent Prince,” Dean said, gesturing to Cas before he paused. _They were supposed to be a couple._ “Soon to be Agent Trevor as well.”

Cas looked at Dean like he had lost his mind while the woman gushed over them both. “My my, well, congratulations! I’m Ambrosia, and I’m happy to answer any questions. I do have one for you two, though. What’s this about?”

Dean smiled sympathetically at her. “There have been some murders recently around town, and the victims were last seen exiting this bar with a stranger.”

Ambrosia gasped. “Oh my, that’s just awful.” 

Cas nodded in agreement. “Have you seen any suspicious activity recently?”

Ambrosia looked up and to the right. “No more than usual. We have had a few more customers in the past few weeks, but nothing that stood out. Can I get you gentlemen some drinks?” She turned, revealing some small, messy braids in her otherwise untouched hair. 

“Yes, please,” Dean said under his breath, and Cas hit his arm. 

“Just water will do, thanks,” Cas said, and he subtly shifted his barstool closer to Dean’s until their thighs were touching. Dean’s heart nearly jumped out of his chest, but that was just due to the fact that Ambrosia had turned back around. 

Right?

Ambrosia beamed at them both. “You two are one of the cutest couples I have ever had the pleasure of running into. How did you meet?”

Dean had taken a sip of water and nearly choked. Cas smiled at Ambrosia. “We were both sent undercover with some absolute _demons_ of criminals and it all went to hell. I extracted him and saved his life,” Cas turned his gaze onto Dean and the adoration in his eyes surprised even him. “Our love just sort of blossomed from there.”

Damn, Cas was a good actor. Dean was going to have to remember to give him some kudos when they got out of this bar.

Ambrosia actually wiped a tear from her eye. “Wow, that is so beautiful. You two must be so in love,” she sighed dreamily before smiling. “Is there anything else I can do for you?”

Dean only realized he was still staring at Cas when the angel began to stand up. “No, but if we find any new information we’ll be sure to inform you.” He shook Ambrosia’s hand and strutted towards the door. 

Dean got up too, and was about to shake Ambrosia’s hand as well when she pulled him into a hug. “You are so lucky to have someone so in love with you. Congratulations again on your engagement,” she said, and Dean just smiled towards where Cas had walked out the door.

“Thank you, and thank you for all your help,” Dean said as he walked towards the door. Ambrosia waved at him, and when he opened the door, the melodic bells tinkled again. 

Cas was waiting for him inside Baby. The car shifted as Dean got inside, and when he looked over at Cas, he was looking at his hands and giving a barely-there smile. 

“You did good in there, Cas,” Dean said, and Cas turned that smile onto him. “Since when did you become such a great actor?” 

Cas’ face fell, and he turned towards his window as Dean started the car. “I’ve seen a lot of movies,” he muttered, and Dean turned on the radio, oblivious to the change of attitude in the car.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> in case you haven’t noticed, I’m awful about making references to my favorite movies/shows. sorry not sorry :) also the bartender’s name is not based on the pudding, just FYI ;)


	4. The One Where There Is Fancy Eating and Bad Acting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I may have accidentally started to lean towards a secret agent vibe in this chapter, sorry not sorry :)

Dean and Cas had just settled in to watch a movie in their room (they needed to make sure to pretend to be a couple, after all) when Dean’s phone started ringing.

Dean groaned and paused whatever cheesy movie they were about to start before grabbing his phone and answering the video call.

“Dean, you have to go to dinner at this place,” Sam said, no introduction. He wasn’t even looking at his phone, he was looking at something off screen. 

“Well, hello to you too,” Dean mumbled, then sat back against the back of the loveseat in their room (yep, a _love_ seat).

“Where do we have to go and why?” Cas asked, ever the logical one.

“I was doing _research_ -“ Sam shot a pointed look at Dean and Dean waved his hand halfheartedly “-and it looks like all our vics went to dinner at this place two days before they died.” A text notification popped up on Dean’s phone and he opened it, revealing some information on a restaurant called _Restaurant de la Perle_ , a fancy-pants French place.

“Sam, what makes you think we can afford this?” Dean asked, scrolling through the restaurant’s website. 

Sam scoffed. “Dude, we smooch off other people’s credit cards _for a living_. I think we should be able to financially recover from _one_ _night_ at this restaurant. Besides,” Sam said, smirking. “I’ve heard they have a five star rating.”

“Well, really, I totally couldn’t tell based off the fucking website,” Dean deadpanned, and Cas snorted. Dean beamed at Cas, and Cas beamed back.

  
There was a moment of awkward silence as Dean and Cas smiled at each other, totally lost in their own world.  
  


“Guys, I’m still here,” Sam said, watching them both very closely. Dean cleared his throat and looked away. “I think it has a dress code, so you may have to go shopping before tonight.”

Dean glanced at Cas with an eyebrow raised. Cas rolled his eyes. “Yes, Dean, if I turn my grace back on, I should be able to save us the time and the hassle of going to buy an outfit that is suitable for a five-star restaurant. And, in addition, it will allow you to continue to be a lazy ass until we have to go to dinner tonight.”

Dean pumped his fist. “I. Hate. Shopping!” He looked at Cas (again). “You’re a lifesaver.”

Cas smiled softly, the faintest red painting his cheeks. “I learned from the best.”

Oh, what a sap. Dean blushed anyways.

“Alright, well you two go there as a couple and see what you can find out. It looks like they went to dinner here with their significant other, and then the next day went to that bar you guys went to today, then they died.” Sam said matter-of-factly, oblivious to his brother’s tomato-shade face.

“So you want us to copy their schedules?” Dean asked, turning the TV off and getting up. 

“I think that’s the best course of action right now, yeah. At least until I can get some more info on whatever it is you guys are up against,” Sam explained, planting a cheek on one of his fists and looking at the camera. Dean got sudden flashbacks to a younger Sam doing the same thing.

“You still don’t know what the big bad is?” Dean questioned, at the same time Cas asked “You don’t know what we're fighting?”

Sam sighed and ran a hand over his face. “Research is harder than it looks, guys. You would understand if you had more than two brain cells.”

Dean raised his middle finger instinctively, but it was by his side and Sam couldn’t see it. “Yeah? Well, at least we’re not...we’re not _nerds.”_

Yeah, he just said that. Dean was getting too old to have any good comebacks. 

Sam rolled his eyes and hung up. Dean whirled around and collapsed onto the bed. He circled his finger up in the air and then pointed in Cas’ general direction. “Do your genie thing, Cas. I want you to make me into a prince.”

Dean heard a flapping of wings, and then added “Not literally!” as an afterthought, hoping the angel had heard him. He did _not_ need to be turned into an actual prince with a crown or something.

Dean lay on the bed, staring at the ceiling, for more than a minute longer before he heard the flapping of wings again. 

“Jeez, I was starting to get worried, it took you-“ Dean sat up and his eyes widened comically as he got his first glimpse at Cas. “-forever.” His voice kinda died into a whisper at the end, but who could blame him when Cas looked like _that_.

Cas smiled apologetically and straightened the cuff of his jacket. “Sorry, I wasn’t really sure what you would like to wear.” 

Dean blinked at him.

“Um, h-here’s your suit. If it doesn’t fit just, uh, le-let me know, I guess. I’ll try to get you another one,” Cas said, squirming under Dean’s gaze and looking pretty much everywhere but him.

Dean blinked at him again.

“What, Dean?!” Cas blurted out, and he pursed his lips like he even surprised himself by letting those words slip out. 

Dean blinked at him _again_. Then he opened his mouth and sucked in a breath, like he was gonna say something. Then he closed his mouth and continued staring.

Cas licked his lips and turned his head, accentuating his jawline. Dean’s breath hitched.

“Can you just get dressed, please?” Cas asked, his voice small. Dean nodded, and grabbed his tuxedo from Cas’ arms, then walked stiffly into the bathroom. 

Dean relaxed as soon as he had closed the bathroom door. Cas looked _stunning_ and Dean obviously couldn’t function when he looked _that good_. 

Cas was wearing an all black tuxedo with a cobalt blue tie, which may not sound like a lot, but _good Chuck almighty,_ Dean had never seen 

anyone look as perfect as Cas did in that tux.

He quickly got dressed in a regular black and white tuxedo, because apparently, this French place was so pompous that he needed to wear an actual _tux_.

Dean emerged from the bathroom, and his eyes immediately fell on Cas again, who was gaping at him like a fish. 

Cas gave Dean a once over and licked his lips before clasping his hands behind his back and looking around the room, rocking forward on his toes and then back on his heels. “You look great, Dean,” he said hoarsely.

“As do you, my angel,” Dean replied with a phony English accent, and Cas smiled shyly and seemed to relax. “I mean, uh, you look g-good too, Cas,” Dean corrected as he nervously pulled at his tie.

“Well, um-shall we?” Cas asked, breaking the awkward silence that had fallen over them before motioning to the door. 

“We shall,” Dean said, and before he could reconsider, he offered Cas his arm (like the gentleman he was). Cas hesitantly took it, his touch feather light. “Let’s go be some grandiloquent sons of bitches.”

~~~

They pulled up to the restaurant, sand scratching under the tires as the sun began to dip low on the horizon. Dean shut Baby off but didn’t get out.

“W-what if we’re overdressed? What if we’re _under_ dressed? What if they don’t let us in?” He looked to Cas with a frantic gaze. “I don’t belong here.”

Cas sighed and looked at Dean with what was, quite frankly, a really cute thinking expression. “Nobody cares, Dean,” he said, and well. Dean wasn’t a dainty little snowflake, but Cas could’ve sugar coated it a _little_ bit, at least _._

Cas must’ve seen the hurt in Dean’s expression, because he exhaled and continued. “What I mean is, you just be yourself, and ignore everyone else. If they want to be snooty asses, then that’s their problem. You look _wonderful_ , like a prince actually, and anyone who thinks you don’t belong is out of their mind.” Cas seemed content with his pep talk, because he gave a little nod (more to himself than to Dean, it seemed), opened the passenger side door and got out. 

Dean just sat there, because wow, Cas just said that he looked wonderful (like a prince, even). He was so stunned at the compliment that he jumped when Cas knocked on the window. 

“You coming?” Cas asked when Dean opened his door. Dean nodded and took a deep breath before he joined Cas in the parking lot. The smell of salt was distinct in the air, and suddenly Dean wondered just how close they were to the beach. Cas turned to him. “Are we a couple again, or just friends?”

_Well, isn’t that a great question._ Dean mulled it over. On one hand, being friends would be easier, they wouldn’t have to pretend to be together, and they wouldn’t have to worry about a backstory, or acting in love, or being affectionate, or- 

“Let’s be a couple,” Dean blurted out, which, okay, that wasn’t what he had _meant_ to say, but now that it was out there he wasn’t gonna be the one to take it back. Cas looked a little taken aback, but then he nodded, a small smile playing on his lips. “Um, if that’s okay with you. Just since, you know, the vics were with their partners when they went to dinner here. It would make more sense,” and now Dean was blabbering. He sealed his lips to stop himself from talking even more. 

What he said must’ve made sense to Cas, though, because he smiled at Dean and said, “Sure, for the case. Obviously. It would make sense.” Cas looked away, biting his lip, and when he looked back at Dean his face was back to it’s usual stoic expression. 

This was going to be fun.

They walked up to the doors of the restaurant and entered, a breeze of fresh, air-conditioned air blasting in Dean’s face like he just opened a door into Antarctica. Cas led him towards the waiter at the entrance (when had Cas grabbed his hand?) and smiled.

The man scrunched his nose up, his black pencil mustache starting to look like a squiggle of Sharpie on his upper lip. Dean almost offered to grab a napkin and wipe it off for him. 

“Do you have reservations?” The man asked, looking down his nose at them.

Cas glanced at Dean and tried to communicate something with his eyes. “I believe so,” Cas said, his eyes still talking more than his mouth was. Dean squinted at him, at a complete loss for what the angel was trying to say. Cas sighed. “Can we check with a friend of ours?”

The man nodded curtly. “Can you ask Sam if we have a reservation?” Cas asked Dean, his voice barely a whisper. Dean nodded and whipped out his phone. 

**Dean: reservations for restaurant??**

Dean smiled apologetically at the man. The man sniffed and Dean fought the urge to slug his mustache off his face. 

**Sam’s Newest Personal: under names james and steve barnes**

**Dean: srsly? married already?**

**Sam’s Newest Personal: it was a fantastic bachelor party, a wild reception, and your honeymoon got extended by a week because you guys got a little carried away in the carribean**

Dean snorted and then made a face, trying to disguise his smile with a scowl.

**Dean: youre having way too much fun with this**

“Our reservation should be under Barnes,” Dean said, slipping his phone back into his pocket, and the man typed on a keyboard (even the way he typed pissed Dean off).

Dean’s phone vibrated again but he ignored it. 

“Ah, yes, this way,” the man took off into the dimly lit restaurant, and Dean realized they were supposed to follow him. He grabbed Cas’ hand and dragged him into the dining area. 

After bumping into at least two tables and almost upending a drink tray (Dean didn’t understand how they were supposed to see when the whole place was lit by a grand total of what seemed like three lightbulbs, but whatever), Dean and Cas were seated at a table with a view of both the door to the kitchen and the entrance to the restaurant, perfect to see everyone coming and going.

Oh, and they were right by the window, so they had a beautiful view of the sunset on the ocean. 

“What can I start you gentlemen off with today?” A man in a tuxedo similar to Dean’s asked, his unruly hair making Dean feel better about his own appearance. 

“We’ve never been before, what do you suggest?” Cas asked, and Dean looked out the window to keep from laughing. 

The waiter raised an eyebrow. “Perhaps the chardonnay, but my personal favorite is the merlot.” 

Cas smiled. “My husband and I will have the merlot, then. Thank you.” The waiter took their drink menus and walked away. 

Dean finally let out a chuckle that threatened to turn into a full-on laugh when Cas looked at him with a wrinkle in between his eyebrows. 

“Dean? Did I do something wrong?” Cas whispered, and he actually looked scared that he had messed something up, so Dean shook his head and grabbed Cas’ hand across the table. Cas flinched, and almost knocked over one of their empty plates, but then he relaxed. 

“No, you’re just so cute when you’re trying to be all proper,” Dean said, and Cas’ cheeks reddened. 

Dean wasn’t even sure where that had come from, but he sure as hell wasn’t gonna tell Cas that he wasn’t acting.

~~~

“Check out my three o’clock, Cas,” Dean said, casually positioning himself to take a sip of wine as Cas looked over at the person Dean had seen. 

Dean spit the wine back out into the glass and took a bite of steak instead (why is wine so tart, anyway?)

Cas looked at Dean with a raised eyebrow. “There’s a dress code here, isn’t there?” 

Dean nodded, then set down his knife and fork. “I’ll go talk to her,” he said quietly, and stood up, buttoning his jacket.

Cas grabbed his wrist with so little pressure that Dean almost just walked away. “Be careful, Dean,” Cas whispered, his eyes full of worry.

Dean chuckled. “I’m just going to the bathroom, sweetheart, I think I can handle myself,” he said, loud enough for the surrounding tables to hear. He thought he heard a laugh from an older couple sitting near them, but he was already walking towards the woman. 

“Hey there, mind if we talk?” Dean asked, and the woman whipped around. She was pretty, with black hair and dark blue eyes, contrasted by a blood red sundress.

The sundress was what had told Dean that there was something odd about the woman, because if Mr. Mustache at the front was anything to go off of, this place had a pretty strict dress code. 

“Sure, sugar, but not here. Out back in five minutes?” The woman said under her breath as she walked past Dean, brushing his shoulder. Dean nodded like a dumbass before he realized she wasn’t even in the room anymore. 

Yeah, he probably should’ve asked how to get out to the back.


	5. The One Where Dean Gets His James Bond On and There Is Some Suspicious Behavior™

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *cue mission impossible music*

After four and a half minutes of asking around (and some embarrassing moments of awful acting), Dean finally managed to find the woman outside, staring at the setting sun as her sundress nipped at her calves in the slight breeze.

“You a fed?” The woman asked suspiciously as Dean approached. 

Dean contemplated for a moment. “If I was, would you talk to me?”

The woman glanced at Dean, who was panting next to her from all his super-spying and looking over at a large pond with swans in it (because the place totally needed fucking _swans_ ), surrounded by a garden that kinda looked like an oasis.

“You’re cute enough, I suppose. Don’t know if I should mess with that husband of yours, though.”

Dean turned to her, confused. “How did you kno-“

“It’s what I do, sugar. If I talk, are you gonna bust me?” The woman asked, leading Dean down a walkway and into the garden. 

Dean shook his head, and followed her. The woman took a deep breath and looked up at the increasingly inky black sky, then kept walking until the sidewalk thinned out into sand. She sat down, and Dean hesitated a moment.

“I won’t bite,” the woman said, gesturing to the sand next to her.

“This is a new suit,” Dean replied, kinda joking, kinda not.

The woman laughed. “I’m sure this will only take a few minutes,” she said, and Dean had a few more moments of internal struggle before he sat down. “What’d you want to talk to me about?”

Dean shrugged. “I just noticed that you weren’t quite adhering to dress code, is all.” Dean pulled out his phone, opening to the pictures of the victims that Sam had sent him. Dean also made a mental note that he had a few text notifications from his brother, but decided now was not the best time to open them. “Have you seen any of these men in the past few weeks?”

The woman looked at the pictures, before she sighed. “I’ve seen ‘em, don’t remember where though.” 

Dean nodded. “Can you remember when?” The woman shook her head. “What were you doing at the restaurant?”

The woman smiled at Dean and suddenly he understood. “A girl’s gotta eat. And if that hubbie you have yourself wasn’t so intimidating, I’d ask if you were interested in my services.” She leaned forward and placed a hand on Dean’s knee.

Dean leaned forward too, because this woman was getting more and more intriguing. “Can I get your name?”

The woman opened her mouth to speak but then closed it, her eyes widening. Dean tensed up as a figure approached him from behind. “Ready to go, love?”

_Damnit, Cas._

“Just a moment, _angel_ , this young lady was just going to give me her name,” Dean said, but the woman was already getting up to leave. 

“I’m just...gonna go inside. It was nice talking to you-“ the woman cut herself off, then smiled, and Dean realized he hadn’t given her his name. She brushed some sand off her dress and hurried off. 

“Cas, c’mon, I was close to getting some information.” Dean said as Cas sat down next to him. 

“I apologize, Dean, but if we really were a couple, I wouldn’t let you sit on the beach with a beautiful woman alone.” Cas said, leaning his head onto Dean’s shoulder. 

Dean’s breath hitched, but he was supposed to be mad at Cas. “But we’re not really a couple! We’re trying to solve a case, Cas!” There were some people waking on the beach, so Dean kept his voice to a whisper and grabbed Cas’ hand, pressing his lips onto every knuckle. There was some tension there, but Cas relaxed with every kiss.

Cas inhaled sharply, and wiggled in closer to Dean as the temperature started to drop. “Well, if you would’ve stuck around, you could’ve asked the waiter about the victims, and you would’ve known that they all talked to an ‘underdressed hobo’, as he put it. I did a little bit of digging and figured out that it was the same person they were last seen with at the bar we visited.”

Dean was just confused now, because Cas was continuing to snuggle closer to him like he wanted to make sure that everybody knew that Dean was _his_ (or fake his, at least; maybe Cas was just getting good at this acting stuff) but his words had held a certain tone that made Dean think that he was mad at him. (Dean was supposed to be the one that was mad at Cas.)

“Cas, are you...jealous?”

Cas froze, and let out a soft laugh as a group of people walked by. Then he pulled away from Dean and squinted at him. “I’m not sure what you mean.”

Dean brushed a lock of hair off of Cas’ forehead. “Are you mad that I came out onto the beach with a pretty lady instead of finishing dinner with you?”

Cas huffed, before settling back into Dean’s side. “If I’m acting that way, it’s because I’m _acting_ , Dean. And any husband in their right mind would be jealous if their true love went on a walk on the beach with someone who wasn’t them! I’m just playing the part!” Cas whisper-yelled, barely audible over the crashing of the waves and the buzz of people, but his words rang over and over in Dean’s ears.

Dean sighed, and planted a kiss on the top of Cas’ head as the same old couple from earlier passed by them, hand in hand. “I know you’re lying, Cas,” Dean murmured, and Cas turned his head into Dean’s chest. “I was just trying to get some information, you don’t need to worry, I wouldn’t fake cheat on you.”

Cas snorted, and Dean smiled, looking up at the sky. The moon was just beginning to be bright enough to reflect on the ocean, and it was a sight that Dean could never get enough of (it had nothing to do with the fact that Cas was cuddled up against him like they were, in fact, _together_ ).

It suddenly struck Dean that the ocean in front of him, lit up by pale moonlight, was the same color of Cas’ eyes, and the calm water reflected how he felt with Cas in his arms or how he felt with Cas wrapped around him.

In a totally platonic way, of course.

“Can we go back to the hotel? I’m tired,” Dean said after a moment of thinking of all the ways that Cas reminded him of the ocean, and Cas pulled back just to give Dean a look that said _who are you and what have you done with Dean Winchester?_

“You want to leave before dessert?” Cas asked, closer to Dean’s face than he was the time before. Dean licked his lips, and Cas’ blue eyes followed the movement.

“We can get dessert in the room,” Dean whispered, his voice hoarse as he stared into Cas’ eyes. 

Cas sucked in a sharp breath, and Dean saw on his face the exact moment it registered in Cas’ mind, because he knew he was mirroring the expression.

Well, shit, he hadn’t meant it like _that_. 

Dean fought off a sigh, because he really _was_ tired, and he wanted to get out of his fucking tuxedo and into some comfy flannel pajama pants and just collapse into bed with his angel.

Not _that_ way. In a platonic way. Like best bros do all the time. Because best bros totally fake relationships and sleep in the same bed with their best friends to catch a magical creature that was killing people.

Maybe it was time Dean re-thought his life choices.

“I just- I’m really tired, Cas,” Dean said, turning away from him and standing up, offering a hand to Cas.

Cas took it and wow, great thinking on Dean’s part, because Dean’s hands were sweaty as fuck from nerves he shouldn’t have and helping Cas up only brought him closer.

“Dean-“ Cas began, that one word on a shaky exhale of breath, and _nope_ , Dean couldn’t handle that. Things were starting to bubble up inside him and a heart to heart _right at this moment_ was not something that he needed.

“If we get sand in Baby, I’m gonna be pissed,” Dean interrupted loudly, considering how close Cas was to him, before he turned around and barely refrained from sprinting towards the garden. He power walked past the swan pond and through the restaurant, managing to avoid punching Mr. Mustache in the face as he walked by. 

He finally got out through the front door and hurried over to Baby. Dean leaned against the hood and let out a breath that he didn’t know he had been holding. 

His phone started ringing, blasting out _Heat of the Moment_ into the low hum of the night air.

“Sammy, please tell me you got something,” Dean said, putting the phone up to his ear.

“Well, if you would respond to my texts-“ Sam started, snark dripping on his voice.

“Just tell me what you have,” Dean snapped, just about done with his brother (and this case in general).

Sam cleared his throat over the phone and continued, voice completely monotonous. “It looks like the vics weren’t alone when they went into their rooms before they died. They were joined by the person they left the bar with.”

Dean nodded even though Sam couldn’t see him and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Okay, so?”

“ _So,_ either you or Cas needs to go to that bar and you need to leave-“

“Please tell me you’re not going to finish that sentence the way I think you are,” Dean sighed.

“-with someone else,” Sam finished. Dean could hear the tilted head in his voice. “Why would that be a problem? You guys aren’t even together for real.”

Dean just sighed again. He looked up at the sky, willing the stars to reveal _why him_. 

“Do we have any idea who these people are that they left with?” Dean asked after a minute, and yeah, maybe he was avoiding the question, but he had assured Cas he would never fake cheat on him, and if he told Sam that tidbit of information, he would get all nosey. It just plain wasn’t something that Dean felt Sam needed to know.

And cheating was just _wrong_ , in Dean’s opinion. Even in a fake relationship, and _especially_ if it was on Cas. 

Plus, deflecting was a Dean Winchester personality trait.

“I have some security camera footage, but before you ask, no, they are not the same person. One of them is even a man, so there aren’t any gender issues with whatever the thing is.” Sam replied, and Dean heard some typing on the other side of the line.

“ _But_ , it looks like one of the vic’s wives is still checked into the hotel, so maybe you and Cas can go talk to her over breakfast or something.” Sam added, and Dean exhaled a shaky breath. “Dude, what’s wrong with you? Are you okay? You sound like a teenager that just found out their crush doesn’t like them back and it’s starting to scare me.”

“Dean!” Cas’ voice came through the parking lot, and Dean saw him walking towards Baby. 

Dean faked a smile. “I’m fine, Sammy. Send me the wife’s info and we’ll go talk to her tomorrow,” he said through gritted teeth as he waved at Cas.

“Alright, but are you sure you’re oka-“ Dean hung up before Sam could finish.

“Dean,” Cas breathed, and he stopped right in front of Dean with a mix of awe, pride, and hurt on his face.

“Let’s get back to the room, we have a meeting with a mourning spouse in the morning,” Dean said, and he opened the passenger door for Cas. 

Cas nodded and got in. “I paid the bill for dinner with our credit card,” he said, his voice muffled as Dean crossed in front of Baby to get into the driver’s side. 

“Good job, buddy. Soon you’ll be evading the tax man and complaining about your back like a true human,” Dean said, and he reached across the seat to ruffle Cas’ hair like nothing had happened between them on the beach (and like Dean hadn’t had a panic attack while waiting for Cas to get back to the car).

“But tax evasion is a federal crime, Dean. Not all humans are criminals,” Cas pointed out, though he seemed happier after Dean had run his hand through his hair. 

Dean laughed. “It’s an exaggeration, Cas.” 

Cas beamed at Dean, and Dean pretended not to notice, becoming extremely invested in following every traffic law known to man (and a few he made up) to avoid looking at Cas.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not condone the means in which the winchesters pay for things, but it’s only illegal if they catch you, right?  
> right?!?


	6. The One Where Dean Attempts to Hide His Internal Struggles, and Cas Is Not As Innocent As He Seems

When they arrived at the hotel, Dean opened the door to their room, and as soon as it closed behind Cas, he threw his tuxedo jacket off and a surprising amount of sand came out of it.

“I’m taking a shower,” Dean announced, and Cas laughed quietly.

“I’ll stay out here and do some research, I suppose.” Cas said, awkwardly sitting down on the edge of the loveseat. 

Dean nodded energetically and then escaped into the bathroom. He closed the door and laid his forehead against the wood, letting out a sigh. 

Why was he getting so worked up? He had never had trouble being alone with Cas before, so what was the problem  _ now? _

Dean resisted the urge to slide down the door and sit with his head in his hands like he would if life were a cliché rom-com. Instead, he set about readying the bathroom for one of the things he had longed to do since they had gotten to Miami: take a bubble bath.

Because they were staying in the honeymoon suite (Dean was determined to get Sam back somehow for that one) and  _ actual _ couples stayed in it, the en-suite bathroom had a  _ huge _ tub. Like, big enough for those  _ actual _ couples to start working on their night moves, since they were newlyweds and all.

It’s not like Dean was planning on doing that with Cas, and it would be a pity to let that giant tub go to waste, so Dean thought  _ what the hell? _ as he started taking off his clothes. 

Once he got the tub filled up a decent amount, Dean stuck his toe in. 

He then yelped and pulled his foot back like it had been burned.  _ Of course _ , Dean had been so occupied with thoughts of  _ CasCasCas _ that he had forgotten to turn on the hot water, and filled the entire tub up with freezing water that already had him shivering.

The door handle wiggled as Dean kneeled down and reached through the bath water for the drain plug. “Dean? Are you alright?” Cas asked through the door, and Dean froze.

“Y-yeah,” Dean squeaked back, barely audible over the sound of water going into the pipes, and the wiggling on the door handle increased.

The water had just started to create a whirlpool down the drain as Cas opened the door and got a glimpse of Dean in all his naked glory. 

“Cas! Jesus, I said I was fine!” Dean cried, grabbing the nearest article of clothing and throwing it over himself.

Cas’ face was flushed, his eyes wide, but he made no move to look away. “I apologize, I just wanted to make sure you were alright.”

“Yeah, well, good job! I’m fine! In fact, I’m more than fine! I’m perfect! Now if you would excuse me, I would like to enjoy taking a bubble bath now!”

Cas nodded, but Dean didn’t miss the ghost of a smirk on his lips before he turned his chin up and asked, “Would you like some company?” 

_ Whoa there _ .

Dean gulped, and looked from Cas to the bathtub and back again. His grip on the pants he had grabbed to cover himself tightened ever so slightly. “I-uh-“ Dean said, eloquently. 

Cas was asking Dean if he wanted to take a bath together. And the way he had said it made Dean think they would most definitely  _ not _ be getting clean.

Cas had taken his coat off and undone his tie while Dean was failing at filling up the bathtub, and  _ God, _ if Cas looked stunning earlier, words couldn’t even  _ begin _ describe how good he looked standing in the bathroom doorway, asking Dean if he wanted company in the bath, all disheveled and mysterious (and sexy, but Dean stopped that train of thought before it even started).

_ Did _ Dean want company? It wouldn’t be  _ awful, _ he supposed. There was that whole issue of Cas being a dude, but Dean decided that yeah, if Cas had been in a female vessel, Dean would’ve been all over him (her?) from the jump, because Cas’ personality was pretty much everything Dean had ever hoped, dreamed and prayed for (which was ironic) in a best friend-slash-potential romantic partner.

Besides, he guessed he hadn’t really had a problem with the whole  _ dude-loving-other-dude  _ aspect of the fake relationship he was currently in. The only thing that had caused real hesitation was the fact that it would be with  _ Cas _ , and Dean had felt so scared that he would do something to fuck up their friendship that he’d had to be practically forced into it by Sam.

Was...Dean the problem?

God, this meltdown was starting to sound more and more like something Netflix could use in a movie.

Since Dean couldn’t even comprehend his own thoughts, he just blinked at Cas, completely at a loss for words.

Cas laughed nervously, (thankfully) unaware of the internal crisis he had caused Dean as he blushed and put a hand behind his neck. “I only jest, Dean. I’ll, um-I’ll go now,” he said quickly, and took one last (longing?) look at Dean before closing the door. Dean heard the lock click, which must’ve been thanks to Cas’ angel magic, and he deflated. 

Dean threw the pants to the side and was about to continue his meltdown when he noticed a small piece of paper flit out of one of the pockets and onto the floor.

Dean looked at it curiously, and he grabbed it before filling the bathtub up with some actual hot water. He sat on the edge of the bath and unfolded the piece of paper. 

_ The Sea Foam Bar, tomorrow night, 10 p.m. _

_ I’ll answer some more questions, don’t bring your husband _

_ -T _

There were some more letters after the  _ T _ , but they were smudged, though Dean thought it was probably from his own damp hands and the humidity in the bathroom rather than anything malicious.

Dean read it over and over again until he finally kinda understood who it was from. 

The woman in the sundress must’ve slipped it in his pocket at the restaurant or on the beach, before she pretty much ran away when Cas had arrived. Dean re-folded the piece of paper and put it back into his pants pocket. 

By this point, the water was almost overflowing, so Dean cursed and turned the faucet off. He sighed, because now he didn’t have room for bubbles, but he still slipped into the near scalding water feet-first.

Dean was humming Metallica when he remembered he hadn’t opened the text messages from Sam. He reached for his phone on the side of the tub, and nearly dropped it in the water before catching it and looking around triumphantly to see if anybody had seen his amazing catch.

Nobody had, obviously, because he was alone in the bathroom (he hoped there weren’t any ghosts or anything watching him enjoy an activity that he would rather keep a secret but hey, he could always burn their bones) but he was still pretty fucking proud he had managed to avoid dropping his phone in the bath.

He opened the messages app and clicked on the most recent text stream. 

**Sam’s Newest Personal: well of course I’m having fun, you two are finally together**

**Sam’s Newest Personal: even if it’s not real**

**Sam’s Newest Personal: *yet***

**Sam’s Newest Personal: Charis Parks, she should be in room 217, husband was John**

Dean frowned at Sam’s first couple messages, then sighed, closed his eyes, and leaned back against the edge of the tub, letting his phone fall onto his pile of clothes on the floor.

~~~

Dean doesn’t even remember falling asleep, but after who-knows-how-long, he was woken up by the sudden absence of lukewarm water around him. He fought to keep his breathing the same, because he could hear Cas rummaging around the bathroom and humming to himself, and Dean really didn’t need Cas knowing that Dean was awake  _ quite _ yet.

Dean wasn’t selfish, he was just curious as to how Cas would wake him up, if he did at all. (Or at least that’s what he told himself; he was still three-quarters asleep.)

“Dean,” Cas whispered, and Dean felt a slight pressure on his arm. “Dean, let’s get you to bed.”

Dean smiled softly at Cas’ tenderness and blinked open his eyes. “Heya, angel,” he whispered, but Cas must not have heard him, because he busied himself setting some clothes on the side of the tub for Dean. 

Dean suddenly remembered just how naked he was, and even though he really didn’t care because he was still on the verge of tipping back into blissful unconsciousness, he didn’t want Cas seeing  _ all _ of him twice in one night (not without buying him dinner first, that is).

But when Dean looked down in the general direction of his legs, he saw a towel covering his waist. He looked back up to Cas.

Cas cleared his throat when he saw the question in Dean’s eyes. “I didn’t mean to make you...uncomfortable, before. I apologize,” Cas clasped his hands together uncomfortably. “Why don’t you get changed so you can get some sleep,” he suggested, his voice uncharacteristically soft.

Dean continued to look at Cas, who was standing in between Dean and the harsh lights of the bathroom, as if he had been trying to let Dean sleep for as long as he could by keeping his head out of the direct light. The brightness behind Cas cast him in an almost ethereal glow, and Dean realized how truly thankful he was that  _ this _ was his angel, the one that had gripped him tight and raised him from perdition.  _ This _ was the angel that had stuck around through the chaos that was inevitably associated with the Winchester name.

Dean smiled at him again, though the soft smile from before had never really faded off his lips. “You’re very pretty, Cas. Very,  _ very _ pretty.”

Yeah, he might regret this in the morning (something he usually thought when he was drunk on alcohol and not on sleep), but right now, he needed to let Cas know. 

The urge to tell Cas how much he meant to him, how much hope he gave Dean was suddenly so strong Dean almost couldn’t fight it.

Cas stiffened, and Dean wasn’t sure, but he thought he saw him blush. “I-um...Y-You’re quite pretty as well, Dean,” Cas gave him a soft smile that  _ almost _ looked forced, before he quickly added, more sternly, “Now quit stalling and get yourself dressed, so you can sleep in an actual bed.”

Cas turned on his heel, and, okay, that wasn’t how Dean thought that was gonna go.

Still, he couldn’t help palming himself through the towel, because Cas telling him what to do had sounded so damn  _ right- _

Dean blushed and got out of the tub. He smiled as he unfolded the boxers that Cas had picked out for him- sky blue with bees and flowers on them- and put them on. He then unfolded and donned the soft black long-sleeved shirt and the flannel pajama pants that had been left for him.

When Dean shuffled out into the main area of their room, rubbing his eyes and stifling a yawn, he found Cas waiting for him on the bed, looking thoughtfully out the window at the moon.

Cas turned when Dean approached, and Dean wished he wasn’t so tired, or he would’ve stopped and drank in every single detail of Cas waiting for him in bed, perfectly lit in the moonlight like the exquisite and loving yet badass angel of the Lord he was.

Instead, Dean was so tired that the world was fuzzy, and he tried blinking, but that decidedly made things worse. 

And now Cas was...opening his arms to Dean? That was new.

“Dean,” Cas said gently, “I know you enjoy being the ‘little spoon’.”

Even though Dean should’ve defended himself or felt embarrassed for being outed (or at the very least, made fun of Cas for the air quotes that were so very  _ him  _ it almost hurt), he just nodded instead and scrambled into Cas’ arms.

“Goodnight, Dean,” Cas whispered, scooching them both down on the bed until they were laying down, Dean’s head resting on Cas’ shoulder and his face hidden in his neck.

“G’night, Cas,” is what Dean meant to say in return, but it came out a string of sleepy gibberish. 

Cas chuckled, and that’s when Dean knew: he wanted to fall asleep like this every night for the rest of forever.

It was a fleeting thought, one of those that enters your mind just as your body is pulling you down into unconsciousness, but Dean willed himself to remember it, to write it down, to sear it into his memory so he would remember just how right this felt.

Then Dean heard Cas mumble something, but he only heard the couple letters before he drifted into a dream. 

“I lo-“

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> that was not supposed to happen. this was supposed to be a lighthearted chapter in which Dean took a bath and had a moment of childlike happiness where he played with bubbles. but then life™ happened, so I’m sorry 😬forgive me? if not, avoid murdering me until this story is done?


	7. The One Where The Author Remembers That Plot Is A Thing and Adds Some Actual Information (Thank Chuck)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> there, uh, wasn’t supposed to be this much fluff in this chapter but here *throws fluff at you*

Dean woke up with drool running out of the side of his mouth and pooling on Cas’ collarbone (and not in a sexy way).

He moved to get up and wipe the drool off his face, but there was a weight on his back that was keeping him from doing...well, pretty much anything.

Dean twisted and realized that it was Cas’ arm, keeping him seared against the angel’s body like a vise.

Dean hated to ruin the moment, but _God_ , he had to pee so bad it was starting to hurt. Plus, they had a meeting with the vic’s wife in-Dean skillfully maneuvered his arm without moving Cas to check his phone- _twenty fucking minutes_.

“Cas,” Dean said, his voice softer than he had meant it to be, but the other man kept breathing little huffs out through his parted lips, and if that wasn’t the cutest thing Dean had ever seen (besides Cas’, y’know, _being_ , Sam’s baby pictures, and puppies), then he didn’t know what was. “Cas.”

Cas stirred, _just_ barely turning his head to the side, but enough for Dean to be nearly nose-to-nose with him. 

Dean had the sudden temptation to do something that tap-danced dangerously close to the line between _best friends_ and _holy shit, we might be married._

Meh, that line seemed to have been blurred a long, _long_ time ago.

Dean pushed his face forward, just enough to touch the tip of his nose to Cas’, and then he shook his head softly, rubbing his and Cas’ noses together gently.

Cas smiled sleepily, and he shook his head just the slightest bit, reciprocating. 

_There_. Now Cas was semi-awake and Dean could shimmy out of the almost guaranteed conversation about the norms of waking up a friend you were fake dating-slash-fake married to.

Plus, he still really needed to pee.

“Cas, we gotta get up, sunshine,” Dean said, wiggling a little bit to get out from Cas’ arm, and he had no idea that frowns could be adorable until a sleepy Cas proved him wrong. “C’mon, sweetheart.”

Oh. That _sweetheart_ had just slipped out. 

Whoops.

Cas’ adorable little frown deepened. “No. You, stay,” he said, snuggling deeper into Dean’s warmth and tightening his grip around him. “Stay.”

Cas’ eyes were still closed, and Dean smoothed a wrinkle from his frown out of his forehead with his thumb. Cas’ entire face softened with the touch, and Dean melted a little bit.

_Nope_ , not going there. He still had to pee.

“Caaaas,” Dean said, his voice bouncing playfully like a song as he brushed some of Cas’ crazy bed head off his forehead. “Cas, baby, it’s time to get up.”

Hold up. Where did these pet names keep coming from? They weren’t even supposed to be acting right now.

Cas smiled, soft enough that it made Dean feel certain feelings, before sticking his bottom lip out in a pout, eyelashes still dusting the top of his cheekbones. “But I don’t want to,” he said, his voice dangerously close to a whine but not quite there.

Dean sighed. This still-kinda-asleep version of Cas was really freaking cute (and adorably clingy) but was testing his patience _just a little bit_. 

Time to pull out the big guns.

“Cas, I gotta pee like a sonofabitch,” Dean said, purposefully pitching his voice higher to sound as desperate to get to the bathroom as he truly did.

Cas groaned softly, a noise that left little cuts all over Dean’s soul with how gravelly it sounded. “It is at times like this I hate urination.”

Dean laughed, despite it making his urge to pee shoot from a _you should probably get to a bathroom, dude_ to a _I sure hope you have a diaper,_ but that was such a very _Cas_ thing to say that he couldn’t help it.

Cas released his grip on Dean, albeit reluctantly, and Dean (regretfully) flew out of bed and ran to the bathroom just in time.

~~~

“Sam said two seventeen, right?” Cas asked, squinting at the number on the teal door in front of them. 

Dean looked at his phone and nodded. “Yeah, man, right here.” Dean showed Cas the message.

Cas tilted his head. “Should we...knock?”

Dean was raising his fist to do so when the door opened, revealing a middle aged woman with blonde hair. 

She smiled brightly at them. “Come in, come in, I’ve been expecting you two.”

Dean glanced at Cas before stepping through the threshold and into a smaller version of their own room. The woman motioned for them both to sit on her small couch. 

“I’m Charis Parks,” the woman said, shaking both Dean and Cas’ hands in turn. “So nice to finally meet you, agents, but may I ask, what is this about?”

Cas looked at her quizzically. “Your...husband?”

Charis blinked at Cas before laughing in confusion. “Oh my, well, Harold and I have certainly been moving fast, but we aren’t _married_.”

Dean pinched his eyebrows together, an action he usually attributed to Cas. “Uh, ma’am, who’s Harold?”

Charis looked baffled. “Why, he’s my boyfriend, of course.”

“Uh huh,” Dean said, pulling out his phone and bringing up the picture of Charis’ (supposed) late husband. “Have you ever seen this man?” 

Charis put a hand on her chin. “He looks vaguely familiar, yes. I do believe I saw him at a bar or restaurant since I’ve been here, but I don’t really remember much before about three days ago.” She smiled apologetically before leaning in and stage whispering “Miami sure knows how to party, doesn’t it?”

Cas nodded in confused agreement. “But you were marri-“

“Would you mind making a list of everywhere you’ve been since you’ve been in Miami?” Dean cut in.

Charis nodded before getting up in search of something to write with. 

“How does she not remember?” Cas asked Dean quietly.

Dean shrugged. “Shock, maybe? Although, they were hitched for about ten years, so I don’t see how she could just up and forget that she was married to the guy.”

Cas looked thoughtful, and he inhaled before he said, “Wasn’t her husband killed about three days ago?” 

Dean had just opened his mouth to answer when Charis sat back down, chatting away. “-and then I went to dinner at this fine restaurant, just a beautiful view of the ocean, I must say. The next day, I had a massage here at the hotel and that’s when I met Harold! So sweet, he is, he’s in the shower now,” Charis said, motioning towards the bathroom with one hand as she handed Dean the list.

Dean gave it a cursory glance and yep, _Restaurant de la Perle_ was on her list the day before her husband died. There was someplace missing, though. “Have you been to _The Sea Foam_ bar while in Miami?” he asked, passing the list over to Cas.

Charis put her hand to her chest. “I’m not much of a bar person, but I have heard that name somewhere,” she waved her hand as the thought escaped her, replaced by a new one.“I know where I’ve seen that man you showed me earlier! He was at the-oh, what was it called?”

“ _Restaurant de la Perle?”_ Cas offered, and Charis snapped her fingers.

“That’s it! I knew I had seen him before,” she said, smiling proudly. 

Dean and Cas exchanged a glance as the door to the bathroom opened. “Christie, who the hell-?”

Charis beamed at the large man who came out of the bathroom. “Agents, this is Harold. Harold, this is Agent Trevor and Agent Prince.” 

Harold squinted at them both before grabbing a beer from some unknown location. “Why the fuck are they here?” he asked, scratching the beer belly that was hanging out of the bottom of a white tank top.

“They just wanted to ask me some questions, is all, dear,” Charis said, laughing like Harold had just said the funniest thing in the world.

Harold side-eyed her like she was losing it, and Dean would be lying if he said he didn’t, too. 

“Well, go grab me another pack of beer,” Harold said dismissively, sprawling himself out on the bed to watch something on the TV.

Charis smiled widely in his direction for a moment longer before she seemed to remember that she had company. “Oh, gentlemen, that’s my cue! Thank you for coming, but I’m going to have to ask you to leave now,” she said, turning a distinct psycho-killer smile onto Dean and Cas. 

Dean nodded, reaching his hand out for a shake. “Thank you for meeting with us, ma’am. We’ll let you know if there’s anything else.” 

Cas nodded, but Charis was too busy sighing dreamily at the man who was now snoring loudly on the bed. “Isn’t he just the sweetest thing?” She whispered, and Dean just grabbed Cas’ hand and let himself out.

~~~

“Well that was...unexpected,” Cas said as they both settled into Baby.

Dean snorted and ran a hand through his hair. “I think that’s an understatement, Cas.” He grabbed his phone and dialed Sam’s number.

It took two rings for the Sasquatch to pick up. 

“Dean, where the hell have you been?” 

Dean could feel Cas’ gaze boring a hole into the side of his head as he looked at Sam, all faux-innocence. “Miami, of course.”

Sam sighed, all _you’re the big brother yet I have more common sense,_ and Dean was tempted to just hang up on him. “I mean, why haven’t you answered any of my texts? You practically dropped off the face of the planet!”

“Well, we’ve been working the case, obviously,” Dean said, ignoring Cas’ look of confusion.

Sam ran a hand over his face. “Deflecting may be a personality trait, but it doesn’t mean you’re good at it.”

Dean would take offense, but Sam was right (this once). “Well, thank you for that wonderful insight, Doctor Phil. Now, about what we were calling about-“

“It seems as though Charis Parks has no recollection of her husband,” Cas interjected, and Sam perked up, looking at something just to the right of the screen.

“Says here that the rest of the spouses were having a hard time remembering, too.” He said, clicking away on what sounded like a computer keyboard.

Dean turned his neck, cracking it a little bit. Cas and Sam both looked at him in horror. “What?” He asked, making a face. “What are we thinking here? Witch? Ghost? C’mon, Sammy, you gotta have _something_.” 

Sam sighed overdramatically, like the weight of being the only person on the team with more than three brain cells was starting to weigh on him. “I got nothing, Dean. Coroner’s report said the men were drowned, but there wasn’t any water near them, they weren’t wet,” -Dean refrained from making a dirty joke, “-all of the partners seem to have caught a case of memory loss when asked about their husbands. The only real things we have to go on are the restaurant, the bar, and the people they left the bar with, and there doesn’t seem to be a connection.”

Cas looked thoughtfully at Sam, and Dean totally wasn’t jealous. “Didn’t you say they were found with something near their bodies? Some sort of plant?”

Sam nodded, typing away again. “Yeah, myrtle in the mouth and rose petals all around them.”

“Can you cross-reference the cause of death with the myrtle and the rose petals? Maybe it doesn’t have anything to do with the people they left the bar with,” Dean suggested, and Sam rolled his eyes.

“Since when did you become the boss?”

Dean scoffed. “Since you were born, dude.”

Sam tsked. “You didn’t even go to Stanford,” he sighed, shaking his head.

“Oh, fuck you, you ungrateful son of a b-“ Dean replied, with only a little bit of heat.

“Can you let us know if you find something?” Cas asked, stopping Dean from ripping Sam a new one right then and there.

Sam nodded, and gave a little salute, before he seemed to remember something. “Hey, Dean, as I was saying before, what’s going on with yo-“

Dean hung up on him, turning to Cas. “So, we have some time to kill until Sam finds something, huh? What do you wanna do?” He asked after checking the time. He still had a few hours before his meeting with whoever the hell _T_ was.

When Dean looked up, Cas was staring at him with a high degree of intensity that almost made Dean feel like an artifact on display. “Are you alright, Dean?” Cas asked softly.

Dean forced a smile and nodded. “Yup, fine, fine, totally fine. Are _you_ alright, Cas?”

Cas sighed. “I believe so, I’m just concerned for your well being. Is there something you’re not telling me?” 

Dean shifted and scratched the back of his neck. “Nope, nothing that I can think of.” Dean squinted at Cas, suddenly suspicious. “Is there something you wanna get off your chest, buddy?”

Cas’ eyes widened and his head swiveled towards the front of the car. “No,” he squeaked, and yeah, Dean was _totally_ gonna believe him.

“You sure?” Dean said, and maybe he was prodding a little much, but how could he _not_ when Cas was acting all suspicious.

Cas just pursed his lips together and nodded, turning to look out his window.

Well, alright then. Dean guessed they were driving.


	8. The One Where Dean Meets With Someone and Cas Gets Suspicious

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i’m sorry. in advance. our Cassie baby has a smol panic attack, just a heads up. <3  
> also this is where the lore starts to get a little questionable but whatever

“Sam?” Cas asked to the phone when Sam picked up. “I think Dean’s up to something.”

“He’s always up to something, Cas. I wouldn’t worry too much about however he’s acting,” Sam said, obviously distracted on the other end of the video call. 

Cas sighed, and looked to the TV, which was playing idly. “He’s out on a beer run right now, but I worry he’s breaking cover.”

Sam did a double take at the defeated look on Cas’ face before settling in front of the camera. “How would he be brea-oh.” 

Cas nodded at Sam’s sudden realization. “He seemed to take particularly well to the woman we talked to at the restaurant last night. Do you think he’s with her?” 

Sam’s expression softened. “Cas, there’s no one he would rather be with than you. I’m sure he’s-“

“I told him I loved him last night,” Cas blurted out, and Sam hit the brakes. His mouth opened and closed around nothing as Cas rambled on. “He fell asleep in the bath, so I woke him up and then he came and cuddled up to me in bed and it just felt so _right_ that it just kind of…slipped out?” Cas winced. “He didn’t respond, so I took that as an answer, but then this morning...b-but now he’s gone and what if I scared him away, Sam? What if he’s in danger and it’s all my fault?”

_What if, what if, whatifwhatifwhatif_

Sam just stared slack-jawed as Cas set the phone down and began to pace, running his hands through his hair. 

He _knew_ this whole fake relationship thing was an awful idea. 

Despite what the hunter may think, everything Cas had ever done was to protect _Dean._ He couldn’t help the dominoes that had fallen when Dean had blipped on his celestial radar, but finally having (and taking) the chance to be close to Dean, to be _intimate_ with him, that was a self-inflicted torture.

Cas had been having a hard time, recently. All the expectations of being God’s supposed golden child stacked onto his new expectations of being human had him pulled every which way, and he felt as though if he kept it up, it would tear him apart.

When Sam had pitched him the idea about fake dating Dean, Cas had been reluctant to accept. Dating itself was still a puzzle to him, how to show affection without it being deemed ‘tooth-rotting’, as Charlie put it (what teeth had to do with dating, Cas will never know). He wanted to do the _real_ thing with Dean, figure everything out together, wake up together, fall asleep together, say things that meant everything yet nothing at all. He was tired of the concept of personal space, of glancing away when Dean caught him staring because he was just too magnificent in all his imperfections _not_ to stare at, of constantly bickering (even if it was light-hearted) when they could be kissing or hugging or doing whatever it was humans did to show affection.

He _loved_ Dean, he knew he did, he had seen enough peoples’ Heaven to know what love looked like, but _feeling_ it was something totally different. And not being able to show it in ways he wanted to when it was just them, just Dean and Cas, was a painful burden he would never wish upon another creature. 

But then Dean had looked at him last night like he meant it, like Cas was the only thing worth seeing, and that had sent his guard tumbling down. 

Dean hadn’t looked at him like Castiel, the fallen angel, the angel who had killed thousands, the angel who fell in love with a human. Dean had looked at him like **_Cas_ ** _,_ like Cas was _his._

And Cas had become addicted to that look, wanting it, hoping he could get it again by saying three simple words that he physically couldn’t keep inside any longer.

And now Dean was gone, taking Cas’ heart with him, leaving him with a gaping hole in his chest.

He supposed he _was_ always happy to bleed for the Winchesters.

“Whoa, whoa, Cas, take a deep breath. Dean’s fine, he’s just out on a beer run, he’ll be back soon, you don’t need to worry,” Sam said, pulling Cas back just as he began to hyperventilate, a new experience that came with more human, less grace. “And Dean loves you too, everyone but him knows it, but once he figures it out, he’ll tell you, okay?”

Cas inhaled sharply, before sitting back down and nodding more than he needed to. “Okay,” he said, trying to convince himself to calm down. “Okay.”

Sam shook his head. “My brother’s an emotionally constipated idiot, but are you sure he heard you?”

Cas shook his head. “He might’ve been asleep when I said it,” he admitted, blushing a little bit.

“Aha! There, he doesn’t know, then. I’m sure he’s fine, and he’ll be back soon, alright?” 

Cas offered a small, pained smile. “Alright. Thank you, Sam.”

With that, he hung up, threw his phone face-down on the couch, and leaned back to enjoy his movie.

~~~

The parking lot was empty when Dean pulled in, which he found a little odd, considering it was ten o’clock on a Friday night _in Florida._

He shrugged it off; the neon signs in the front windows weren’t buzzing, so maybe they didn’t open ‘til like eleven or some shit on the weekends.

He cautiously opened the door to the place, the butt of his gun digging painfully into his lower back from where he had it tucked into his waistband. The melodic chimes tinkled through the air, leaving an eerie stillness when they silenced.

“Hello?” Dean called, and suddenly he realized that if there _was_ a psycho murderer in the place, they would most likely not jump out of their hiding place saying “Hi! I’m here to kill you, but please, take my element of surprise as a gift for walking into my trap.”

Dean sighed. Was that _really_ a train of thought he needed to have right this minute?

“Heya,” a voice said from beneath the cover of a shadow. Dean angled himself toward it, approaching whoever it belonged to like they were a rabid animal. 

He relaxed when he recognized the woman from the restaurant. She smiled at him, and gestured to the barstool next to her. “Nice to see you here, Dean.”

“Nice to see you too-“ Dean paused as recognition hit him. “I never gave you my name?” He had meant it to come out as a cold hard fact but instead it came as a question. 

“You didn’t, did you?” She sighed, shrugging. “Whoops, my bad.” 

This was not going how Dean had thought it would. 

“Who-what are you, then?” Dean asked, fingers itching to grab his gun.

The woman laughed, cold and distant. “Who I am? Tisiphone. What I am?” She smiled, but it was serrated around the edges. “You’re _the_ Dean Winchester, you should be able to figure it out.”

There was some cutlery on the bar, above the faux waves, and Dean grabbed one and hoped to God that it was silver (and that silver would hurt the bitch). He brought the knife up under Tisiphone’s chin, ready to slice and dice. He pressed it against her neck until a slight dribble of blood rolled down her throat and into her low-dipping sundress.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” Tisiphone sighed at Dean, and Dean was about ready to ask her (in a witty retort) why when something hit him over the head.

He barely had time to pray the word _Cas_! before the world went black.


	9. The One With Lots and Lots of Angst

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yup, this is a short chapter. the next couple will be short, but don’t worry, there’s reasons

Dean woke up tied to a chair. He flexed his arms and legs, trying to escape the - _ rope?- _ that bound his wrists to the arms of the chair. 

“I always did like the other one better,” a woman’s voice said from the dark. Dean strained his eyes to see who it was, but he couldn’t see past a small circle of light that barely stretched past his feet.

“The other one wouldn’t have left this one,” another woman’s voice said. It sounded vaguely familiar but Dean couldn’t place it. “The other one  _ loves  _ him, you can just tell.” 

Tisiphone stepped into the light in a crimson dress with a gold belt. She leaned forward into Dean’s face, shaking her head. “Why’d you do it, Dean? Why’d you leave Castiel?”

Dean shook his head. “I didn’t leave him, you-“ Tisiphone snapped her fingers and suddenly Dean couldn’t talk anymore.

“You’re awfully annoying, how does Castiel put up with you? He must not have much of a brain,” She said, her breath ghosting over Dean’s ear. He shivered involuntarily and opened his mouth to dispute her observation about Cas,  _ his  _ Cas.

“Castiel is in love, Tisiphone, there’s nothing to do with his intelligence,” the other voice said, and Ambrosia stepped forward. She looked different; she had a long seafoam dress with flowy skirts that shimmered in the light. Her collar bone was exposed, and she had a strand of gold weaved into a messy braided crown, half of her hair still down and hanging loose around her shoulders. 

Dean looked at her with pure fury written on his face. She smiled at him sadly. “Oh, Dean,”

she said, approaching him carefully like he was dangerous (which he  _ was,  _ especially now that he was pissed). “Why did you have to come here tonight? Castiel is such a wonderful young man, and you just gave it all up for Tisiphone here.”

Dean tried to argue but he still didn’t have his voice. Instead, he glared daggers at both of his captors.

He  _ didn’t  _ come for Tisiphone, he came for the information that Tisiphone said she would have. In fact, it killed him to have to lie to and leave Cas like he did; Dean  _ knew _ it looked like he was cheating, but he wasn’t.

He really wasn’t cheating, that hadn’t been his intention, he was trying to get info and get out of this whole fake relationship so maybe he could ask Cas out  _ for real. _ The past few days of fake dating Cas had been more torturous for Dean than to be strictly bro feelings he was feeling.

Oh shit. Their relationship wasn’t strictly bro-mance anymore.

“And now, you will pay for your infidelity, and sweet, sweet Castiel will be allowed to move on in his life without you,” Ambrosia continued, running a hand over Dean’s face. Dean flinched away, snarling.

Tisiphone grabbed Dean roughly by the arms and spat in his face. Ambrosia laughed, a serrated sound in the silence of the empty bar. “Saliva does put one under the siren’s spell, doesn’t it? Though, I could tell you loved him. What more could you want romantically?” She asked, shrugging like she couldn’t figure it out either. Dean struggled to get the spit off his cheek. “The only thing you ever want is to solve the case, you bloodthirsty human. So, that’s what I gave you, and it got you away from Castiel. It drove you away from your one true love, and it was an added bonus for us, so we wouldn’t have to worry about you pesky  _ hunters.” _

Ambrosia said the last word like it was the scum on the bottom of her shoe. Tisiphone snickered. “Aphrodite, be kind to the man in his last moments. We still have some parts to set in motion, remember?”

Wait,  _ Aphrodite? _

Dean’s face must’ve given something away, because Ambrosia (again,  _ Aphrodite _ ?) rolled her eyes. “Yes, like the Greek goddess. You’re quite a slow one, aren’t you?” She waved her hand and suddenly unconsciousness hit Dean like a bag of bricks.

_ Again. _

~~~

Dean almost got to the surface of consciousness when he heard the melodic tinkling of bells. They seemed so far away, the nice, innocent little sounds chiming a song while Dean swam underwater, reaching for air, reaching for the surface.

_ Cas! _

Dean’s head slumped, his groggy mind and sore body taking him under.

~~~

Dean woke up smiling.

He was stumbling out of the elevator with Tisiphone, laughing and grinning as they leaned on each other to get to the honeymoon suite at the end of the hall.

Wait, how did he get here? Why was he smiling?

_ Was Cas okay? _

Tisiphone turned a smile onto Dean that tossed knives at his heart. “Open the door, Dean.”

_ No. _

“Okay,” Dean said, reaching forward and sliding his keycard into the slot backwards, trying to give his brain time to catch up. It blinked red, and Tisiphone tightened her grip on Dean’s arm, her bloodred nails digging into the flesh.

“Open the door,” she said through gritted teeth.

Dean gulped and fumbled with the key before sliding it back into the slot. It blinked green, and Tisiphone smirked at Dean. “Good boy,” she whispered, and Dean  _ really  _ wanted to punch her.

He wanted to punch her  _ more _ than he wanted to punch Sammy for reserving the honeymoon suite (which was saying something).

Dean pushed open the door, and was met with the sight of Cas standing up from the loveseat, a movie playing on the TV.

Cas smiled politely at them, a look of confusion passing through his sea blue eyes. 

Dean immediately relaxed at the sight of him,  _ his _ angel. Cas looked unharmed, it hadn’t looked like Tisiphone or fucking  _ Aphrodite  _ had touched him.

Dean was beyond glad for that. He wouldn’t know what to do with himself if Cas got hurt while Dean was out being a dumbass. It also meant that Dean didn’t have to drag out the death of the two women for any longer than he had to. 

Though, that sounded pretty damn good right about now.

Dean tried to pray at Cas, pretty much yelling  _ Castiel, I could use your help right about fucking now. _

Cas blinked at him, like he could hear the prayer, but couldn’t figure out how to respond. His polite smile wavered, something more than confusion flashing in his eyes this time.

There was something wrong. Dean could feel it, the dread pooling in his stomach.

“Who are you?” Cas asked, his voice reasonable, tilting his head in that adorably innocent way of his.

_ Fuck. No. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m sorry. I’m so so sorry


	10. The One Where All The Pieces Click Together (But Nothing Is Solved)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is a chaotic chapter. you have been warned.

“Eileen, I found it!” Sam declared, managing to waltz into the kitchen with his abnormally long legs.

Eileen smiled at him from over her shoulder, her long brown locks pulled into a bun with some wisps of disobedient hair framing her face.

“What did you find, _mo chroí_?” Eileen asked, setting down her wooden cooking spoon to sign to Sam. The flannel shirt she was wearing over her bra and underwear raised up just a little bit, and Sam got distracted. “Sam?”

Sam shook himself out of his mini-drooling session, putting on a straight face to keep from smiling like an overly-excited puppy dog. “I found the recipe for Winchester Surprise that Dean keeps hidden in his room.”

Eileen smiled at him, shaking her head. “Have you done _any_ research on the case recently?” She asked, this time signing with the wooden spoon in her hand and managing to make it look menacingly domestic.

Sam looked down, caught. “No?”

Eileen threw her hands up in frustration. “Sam! What if whatever it is down in Florida has Castiel and your brother?” 

Sam sighed. “Eileen, I sent them down there to bond over their profound bond or whatever they have,” Sam waved his hand and rolled his eyes. “I booked them the freaking honeymoon suite so maybe we could finally have some nephilim Winchesters running around,” Sam paused, allowing Eileen to hit him with her wooden spoon before continuing. “I know that’s not how biology works, but you get my point. They can’t just make bedroom eyes at each other all the damn time and expect me not to do something about it. Besides, if it was something dangerous, I would be down there with them-“

Eileen cut off his babbling with a (slightly aggressive) kiss. “I think you should go do some research just in case. I’m going to make Winchester Surprise and I’ll bring some down to the library when it’s done,” she said, shooting Sam a look that had him scurrying down the hallway and into the library before he could even muster up the brain cells to plead with Eileen.

~~~

An hour later, the smell of something burning and the sound of slightly muted cussing floated down the hallway. 

Sam smiled, wiggling down in his chair to finish reading the book called _Ancient Greek Gods and Goddesses._

~~~

An hour after that, Eileen came into the library with a proud smile decorating her sweaty face and a bowl of something delicious smelling in her hands.

“I burnt the first batch,” she explained, placing the steaming bowl in front of Sam. “But I got the second batch just right.”

Sam nodded absently, licking his finger to turn the page (a habit Dean had told him was really old-man like, but it saved Sam from paper cuts, okay?).

Eileen smiled softly and took the chair across from Sam, waiting for the inevitable-

“So get this,” he said, right on cue. Sam leaned forward, nearly bringing his book down on the bowl of Winchester Surprise. “Both myrtle and rose petals are symbols of Aphrodite, the Greek goddess of love, beauty, passion, and pleasure. She came from sea foam, which was that bar… and pearls are also a symbol, which explains…”

Eileen nodded, coaxing Sam through his mental writer’s block. “The restaurant where all the couples went the night before they disappeared.”

Sam mirrored her nodding, getting up to pace. “But if it’s Aphrodite, then these books say she shouldn’t be able to shapeshift, so...who are the men and women that the vics leave the bar with?”

Eileen sighed. “Sirens are also from Greek mythology-“

Sam snapped his fingers. “So the sirens could be luring the men away from their partners and what? Leading them to Aphrodite? And why don’t the partners remember being in a relationship with the vics?”

Eileen shrugged. That had been the one part she hadn’t been able to figure out. Sam paced back and forth, mumbling to himself as Eileen read the book he had been working on. She was reading it upside down, untouched from where Sam had left it, when Sam sat back down with a huff.

“I should call Dean. We have a development, even if the case isn’t solved yet,” Sam said, reaching for his phone. “Eileen, you’re the best.”

Eileen blushed and grabbed the spoon from Sam’s uneaten soup. “You’re not so bad yourself, Sam.”

Sam beamed at her, because while she was beautiful all the time, she was especially lovely in one of his flannel shirts and a messy bun, slurping the soup she had made for him. 

Eileen looked back at Sam like he was a lost puppy. The adoration in his eyes was great and all, but Dean and Cas could be in serious danger. “Sam, you were calling Dean.”

Sam smiled and nodded, putting a cheek on his hand to get a more comfortable position to look at Eileen from.

Eileen snapped her fingers in front of his face. “Sam, I love you, but you have to focus.”

Sam shook his head violently, clearing his head. “I love you too, and yes I do. Okay, okay.” He dialed Dean’s number.

It rang.

And rang.

And rang some more.

Until finally someone picked up. 

“This is Dean.” 

Sam cradled the phone between his shoulder and his ear, shuffling his notes around. “Dean, it’s Sam, and I think you guys are fighting Aphro-“

He was interrupted by laughing on the other end of the phone. “Sorry, sorry, couldn’t help myself. This is Dean’s other other cell, so you must know what to do.” The line beeped, signaling that Sam could leave a voicemail.

Sam grunted out a string of curse words. Dean had insisted that making his voicemail message sound like he was actually on the phone was going to be comedy gold, but Sam should really talk to him about making it shorter, should there be an emergency or some shit like that.

Besides, Dean wasn’t really that funny.

“Dean, change your fucking voicemail, nobody likes a smartass. And oh, by the way, I may have very important information on the case. I hope you’re pleased with yourself, your sense of humor is truly making me laugh so hard I’m crying. _Jerk_ ,” Sam said, and if it had been one of those old school phones, he would’ve slammed the phone back down on the receiver.

Eileen was trying valiantly not to laugh by slurping some more soup as Sam collapsed back into his chair like the defeated moose-puppy hybrid he was. 

“It’s late, maybe he and Cas are finally working out their...problems,” Eileen suggested, and Sam perked up. 

“It’s not only painfully obvious to me? Wow, they must just be super oblivious,” Sam said, leaning forward to steal back his bowl of Winchester Surprise. He slurped obnoxiously before looking back to the lore books, absentmindedly holding Eileen’s hand as she did the same.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> is Winchester Surprise a soup?? or am I losing my mind?? or both?? also, apologies for another short chapter, but the suspense is almost as high as my stress levels. :)


	11. The One Where Everybody Starts Freaking Out

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it’s a day early, ‘cause I’m going to be traveling all day tomorrow, so...
> 
> please don’t murder me?

_Who are you?” Cas asked, his voice reasonable, tilting his head in that adorably innocent way of his._

_Fuck. No._

“Cas, it’s me,” Dean said groggily as Tisiphone tied him to the stupid king sized bed in their stupid honeymoon suite.

Cas shook his head, an almost apologetic smile painting his features the same shade of blue as his eyes. “I’m sorry, sir, I don’t know who you are. Or what you’re doing in my room, for that matter,” he said, gesturing with a hand to encompass the entirety of their ( _their_ ) room.

Tisiphone smiled, wicked and jagged. “Oh honey, we’re just taking care of some business. We’ll be out of your hair in a jiffy.”

Cas nodded, albeit hesitantly. 

Dean was about to say something about taking care of some business by putting his fist in Tisiphone’s face (it definitely wasn’t one of his better comebacks, but these were stressful times, okay?) when the door opened, allowing Aphrodite to walk in with a dramatic flourish. Behind her was a woman with light brown hair and grey eyes, fidgeting nervously with the hem of her mulberry blouse.

“Castiel, hello,” Aphrodite said, taking his hand. Cas stared at the hand with a worryingly blank look as Aphrodite continued. “This is Melissa, and she is your soulmate.”

_Yeah, no._

“Okay, lady, I’ve put up with a lot of bullshit in my day, but that’s one step too far over the line,” Dean interrupted before either Cas or the Melissa girl could reply. “First of all, my friend Cas here is an angel of the Lord, and therefore a wavelength of celestial intent, and _therefore_ , doesn’t technically have a soul. But, _gasp,_ maybe he _does_ , and if he does-“ Dean looked at Cas with a meaningful gaze, but Cas was busy watching Melissa instead of being impressed by the knowledge Dean was dropping, “-then _I_ would be his soulmate. Not her.”

Aphrodite shook her head, her hair shimmering slightly around her shoulders like a wave refusing to move. “Then why would you cheat on him?”

“I didn’t-“ Dean bellowed, before containing the pure rage he felt towards this woman or _goddess_ or whatever the fuck she was (if she could bleed, she could die, and Dean was _more_ than happy to put an end to her miserable little existence). “I didn’t cheat on Cas, I was simply trying to obtain information on the _case_ we’re working. Also, what the hell would infidelity have to do with soulma-“

Dean was cut off from his rant rather rudely when Tisiphone shoved a white hand towel into his mouth. “The mouth on this one,” she sighed, before motioning for Aphrodite to continue.

“As I was saying, Melissa, this is Castiel. You two will be very happy together, and neither of you will remember your prior relationships,” Aphrodite said, putting Melissa and Cas’ hands together like she was marrying them or some shit.

Dean cursing was muffled, but he got the point across by glaring daggers at Tisiphone and Aphrodite, as if by sheer will and hatred he could make them spontaneously combust and make this all go back to normal (or, as normal as it could get for the Winchesters). 

Tisiphone just snickered.

“But who-who’s that man?” Cas asked, his voice breaking in the middle, and he _finally_ glanced over at Dean to see Dean now pleading at him with his eyes. “He-I know him.”

Aphrodite sighed, cupping Cas’ cheek with her hand. “You _knew him,_ dear. Not anymore,” she said softly. “In my experience, it’s always easier to just forget rather than forgive.”

Well, Dean may be not the most in tune with his emotions, but that was an utter fuckton of bullshit. 

He was saying so around the (not-sexy) gag in his mouth when Cas looked at him again, scared. 

Melissa looked at him too, her grey eyes like a stormy sky on a summer day, brimming with unshed tears she probably had no idea the reason for.

“But what if I-“ Cas began, blinking rapidly and pinching his eyebrows together like getting the words out was taking all of his mental power. “What if I want to forgive instead of forget?”

Dean’s heart broke a little at how small Cas’ voice sounded, how confused. His eyes were flitting all over Dean’s face, and Dean could see the gears turning behind those baby blues.

_Remember,_ Dean prayed, pleading. _Remember me_.

“Tisiphone, ready the water,” Aphrodite instructed, ignoring Cas. She pulled a basket of rose petals from seemingly nowhere and began to scatter them unceremoniously around the room, making a small circle around where Cas and Melissa stood, still hand in hand.

Aphrodite hummed as she worked, some intricate song with the same basic melody as the bells to her bar. With a snap of her fingers, the rose petals in her basket were replaced by myrtle, which she laid on the bed around Dean with care. 

“Of all the people to cheat on, you chose the sweetest, kindest, most beautiful man I have ever met. He’s an _angel_ , how could you do such a thing?” Aphrodite asked quietly, seemingly almost at a loss for words.

_How dramatic._

Dean rolled his eyes. “He really _is_ an angel, and I never cheated on him!” is what he meant to say, but it came out in a series of muffled babbles. Aphrodite shook her head sadly and put some myrtle on Dean’s crotch, which must be symbolism for something, but Dean didn’t have the brain capacity to think about that right now.

Tisiphone walked back into the room holding a bucket she got from God-knows-where, the sound of sloshing water loud in the relative silence of the room, save for the low hum of the TV.

Why would she have water? What does water have to do with anything? 

_Oh shit._ The vics were all drowned. Water makes sense.

Wait. Dean might die. For real this time.

With this realization, Dean pulled against the rope holding him, trying to escape. His muscles strained as he struggled, but the rope didn’t move at all.

He _would_ _not_ die like this, tied to the king sized bed of a honeymoon suite while Cas was the shell of a person who didn’t remember anything.

Tisiphone laughed at Dean’s resistance and some of the water in the bucket splashed over the side as she got closer to the bed. “Say goodbye, Dean.”

_Fuck._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> there’s a surprise in the meaning of one of the names of you look hard enough (or just ask google politely) :))


	12. The One Where The Day Is Saved...And Dean And Cas Finally Get Their Collective Shit Together (In The Most Dramatic Way Possible, Of Course)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so there is a graphic description of drowning in here, just a heads up <3

“I do hope you’ve learned your lesson,” Aphrodite said, snapping her fingers.

Dean flinched, waiting for overwhelming pain or a bright light or an explosion or _something_ to happen, but nothing did. Tisiphone’s face twisted into a smirk at his expectations.

“Ready, Tisiphone?”

Tisiphone nodded, smiling like she was going to enjoy putting an end to Dean’s life. “I was born ready, m’lady.” 

Then she flipped the bucket of water upside down, and _holy shit,_ all the water stayed in the bucket by some magical force of nature.

Dean’s face scrunched up in a _what the fuck_ face as Tisiphone put the bucket above his head.

The water still stayed in the bucket, like there was a clear lid keeping it from spilling out onto Dean’s face.

That was some voodoo black magic shit right ther- _that's probably what happened when Aphrodite snapped._

Tisiphone roughly grabbed a handful of Dean’s hair and pulled his head up, his neck straining at the awkward angle. “I’d take a deep breath if I were you,” she growled, and Dean’s eyes widened.

He flicked his glance over to Cas one last time, memorizing everything he could about _his angel._

Before Dean could even inhale, Tisiphone was shoving the bucket down on his head, and _somehow_ , Dean’s entire head ended up submerged in water. 

_Science? Nah._

Dean’s limbs thrashed on the bed, and he shook his head around trying to get rid of the bucket, but Tisiphone kept a steady hand on both the bucket and on the back of Dean’s neck.

Dean was vaguely aware of some sounds coming from outside his murder-helmet, but he was more focused on the fact that his lungs were aching and his vision was starting to go black.

Well, if these were his last moments, might as well put them to good use. 

_Cas! I love you!_

He hoped his prayer reached Cas’ ears, even if Cas didn’t completely understand what to do with it.

The commotion outside the bucket suddenly faded, and Dean let go of his breath, dazedly mesmerized as the bubbles that held the last remainders of any hope of survival floated towards the top of water. 

Dean’s head suddenly felt too small, like his brain was trying to pound its way out of his skull and he sucked in a desperate breath to make it stop. His mouth filled with water, and he hadn’t realized it before, but the water was fucking _cold._

His lungs filled up with water, and he could feel it sloshing around inside his chest as he took another choking breath of liquid, throat making a small gurgling sound. 

The edges of his vision suddenly started swimming ( _ha!_ Even though he was dying, Dean could make a decent joke) with black, and Dean figured he had fought hard enough.

_Goodbye._

He closed his eyes and let the black consume him.

~~~

Soft lips pressed against Dean’s, and a breath was forced into his lungs.

He didn’t move, he couldn’t feel, but then suddenly a heavy pressure was applied to his chest, and _ow_ , that might’ve been a rib that bent.

The same soft lips pressed back against Dean’s and pushed a breath into his lungs, and Dean’s eyes flew open as he coughed up water.

Eew. It tasted like backwash.

Dean was rolled onto his side by some strong hands and he spit out some more water, coughing hard as somebody patted his back gently.

“Dean!”

Dean whirled towards the voice. 

“Cas?”

Cas nodded and smiled, his eyes shining with tears. Dean’s entire body sagged in relief, and he felt his own eyes begin to sting with tears.

“You’re back? You remember me?” Dean asked hoarsely, looking around at the mess that had been their ( _their)_ honeymoon suite. 

Melissa stood right behind Castiel, her hair matted and sticking up wildly like she had put her finger in an electrical socket.

Tisiphone laid on the bed, unconscious and bound the same way Dean had been before. 

Aphrodite was nowhere to be seen, but there was a black smudge on the floor that seemed to explain a lot.

“Of course I remember you, Dean. How could I forget _you?_ ” Cas asked, his voice breaking on the last word.

Dean threw his arms around Cas, which was awkward since Dean’s legs were straight and Cas’ were crossed, but it was a perfect hug nevertheless. 

“I thought I lost you,” they both whispered at the same time, and if Dean hadn’t just lost Cas, died, and then come back from the dead, he would’ve laughed.

“It’ll take a little more than water to keep me dead, Cas,” Dean chuckled, and he pulled away to inspect Cas’ face. “What did she do to you?”

Cas shrugged, like it was no big thang. “Just a simple Greek memory spell. I’m not sure how she managed to make it work so well, but it was broken when you admitted your feelings for me through prayer.”

Dean blushed and looked away. “Yeah, about that-“

Cas grabbed Dean’s chin and turned it roughly to face him. Dean sucked in a breath as Cas pressed his lips against his own, desperate and filled with love, despair, fear, and relief.

Dean melted into the kiss, bringing his hand to the back of Cas’ head and deepening it, tasting salt water and something he couldn’t place, but was so very _Cas_ that it was unmistakable.

Dean pulled away first to suck in a breath, coughing a little bit. Cas laughed, a beautiful sound to Dean’s waterlogged ears, and pressed his forehead to Dean’s.

“I thought I lost you,” Cas repeated quietly, and Dean saw some tears glistening on his eyelashes. “Once the spell was broken, I managed to get Tisiphone off of you and take the bucket off your head, then I smote Aphrodite. I tried to heal you with my grace, but-“ Cas made a strangled sobbing sound. “But I couldn’t, so I tried the next best thing.”

“CPR,” Melissa added helpfully, and Dean smiled over at her, hoping to betray his gratitude. She seemed to get it, because her face lit up with a smile, her perfect pearly white teeth almost blinding Dean.

**_So_ ** _not Cas’ soulmate._

“But I’m okay now, Cas. We’re all okay. I got you back, too,” Dean said, returning his forehead to Cas’.

Cas sighed happily. “Yeah, you’re right.”

The, quite frankly, _perfect_ moment was ruined by Dean’s cell ringing from somewhere in the room.

Dean reluctantly hopped up and searched for his phone. When he found it (in between two couch cushions, which, _what)_ he hit the _accept call_ button.

“This is Dean.”

Sam sighed from the other side of the phone. “Dean, I swear to God, this voicemail message is going to be the death of me. I fucking _hate_ it, and you really need to change it before I come down to Florida and change it for you.”

Dean snorted. “Nice to hear from you too, Sammy.”

Sam made a weird gasping sound. “Dude, where the hell have you been? I’ve been calling you since last night!”

“Well, funny story-“

“Did you and Cas finally work it out?” Sam asked, and Dean could almost see him leaning forward in his seat. “Am I going to be an uncle?”

Dean full on laughed at that. “You realize we are two men, right?”

Sam made an indignant sound that Dean chose to ignore. “And thanks for asking, but we ganked the fucking _Greek goddess_ and her little pain in the ass sidekick, but not before they _drowned_ me.”

“Ooh, yeah, that sucks, man. But maybe if you would _answer your goddamn phone-“_

“Okay, you know what, I’m putting you on speaker so you have to be polite, ‘cause there are other people in the room.” Dean said, pressing the _speaker_ button.

“Fuc-“

“Hello, Sam,” Cas said, his voice bubbling with laughter. 

Dean could hear the tight smile coming over Sam’s lips as he refrained from cussing Dean out further. “Hey, Cas. So I heard you guys had an exciting time.”

Cas nodded. “If that’s what you would call both of us almost dying, then yes, very exciting.”

Dean laughed. “Very, very exciting.”

Sam sighed. “‘ _Try to be polite,’_ he says. God, Dean, who’s the rude one now?”

Before Dean could respond, Cas cut in. “Do you have any information for us?”

“Well you obviously don’t need it anymore.”

“It’d still be nice to know,” Cas countered, and Sam sighed again.

“Aphrodite was infamous for her many lovers, but apparently some of them broke her heart. She’s the goddess of love and blah blah blah, so maybe she decided that she didn’t want anyone else to be broken-hearted because of infidelity? I don’t know man, why don’t you ask her why she was doing it?” Sam asked, and Dean and Cas looked at each other before looking at the splat of black on the floor.

“She’s kinda...a spot on the floor right now, Sammy,” Dean said, and really, he was glad they didn’t have to question the bitch.

Sam made a little squeaking noise. “Alrighty, then. Well, she and her ‘pain in the ass’ partner scouted out men who were easily swayed from their partners, wiped the memory of the partner so the vic would die knowing their love didn’t remember them, and then Aphrodite would match the partner with someone else.”

Cas nodded. “She used an ancient Greek memory spell on me, and tried to drown Dean.”

“What-“ Sam started, before he cleared his throat. “Well, I’m glad you guys are all okay. Are you coming back tonight or later?”

Dean glanced at Cas, who was looking back at him a _certain way,_ and a heat suddenly unfurled all over his body. “Later, Sam.”

Melissa seemed to understand, because she offered them both a wave and slipped out of the room.

Cas stared at Dean with a sharp intensity, and said “Goodbye, Sam,” before ripping the phone out of Dean’s hands and hanging up. 

With a snap of Cas’ fingers, Tisiphone was gone. (Dean hoped she landed in either a super-max prison or the bottom of a shallow grave, but hey, at least she wasn’t messing up their sheets anymore.)

“Dean,” Cas said hesitantly, and Dean hummed in response. “I love you, too.”

Dean smiled, and Cas smiled back, bright and lighting up Dean’s day. The hunger in his eyes couldn’t be mistaken, though, and it was time they did something about all this unresolved sexual tension.

“Let’s put the king sized bed to good use, hmm?” Dean asked, raising an eyebrow, and all he got was a quick, desperate nod out of Cas before they were attached at the lips.

Dean couldn’t lie and say the rose petals didn’t add a nice touch.

  
_Fucking honeymoon suite._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> that’s it. wow, I can’t believe it’s actually over. I hope you had as much fun reading this chaotic bunch of words as I did writing it! :)  
> special thanks to everyone who left a comment or kudos, you guys really make my day every time I see a new one <3  
> I hope I wrapped everything up okay…? if you have any questions, please let me know! :D

**Author's Note:**

> I don’t know when updates will happen but they *will* happen


End file.
